Embers of Her Heart
by warehouseluver13
Summary: The Colonel and I share a long forgotten past that nobody knows about, and one that has fallen under a forbidden topic of discussion: the year he spent as my Father's apprentice. Things happened, words were exchanged, and a whirlwind summer romance completely changed my life. (AU)
1. Chapter 1

**_EMBERS OF HER HEART_**

 ** _By: warehouseluver13 & _****_DarksteelRebelhawk_**

 ** _This is the beginning of an AU story that I co-authored with my friend, DarksteelRebelhawk_** ** _, so please enjoy and leave a review letting us know what you think! :)_**

 ** _Disclaimer: We do not own Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang, Fullmetal Alchemist, or FMA: Brotherhood. They belong to their respective owners._**

 ** _Also: Italics are Riza's thoughts._**

 _ **~warehouseluver13~**_

* * *

When I woke up, the sun was just starting to climb over the horizon, lighting up the night sky as it welcomed the start of a new day. I always enjoyed watching the sun rise, because to me, it carried a vague sense of renewal as it rose higher into the sky. That sort of thing was pretty nice, at least for me, even though the early morning sun never quite seemed to fulfill its promises.

I yawned and stretched before moving to my closet to pick out an outfit to wear. Today was the first day of summer, which meant I could wear my favorite sundress that once belonged to Mother. Father doesn't speak of her often anymore, ever since she passed, and he would probably be angry if he realized that I snuck into her armoire and added a few of her dresses to my summer wardrobe. Speaking of Father, I should start breakfast; he would be awake and hungry within the hour.

As I got dressed, I couldn't help but think about something Father had said a few days ago. He had mentioned that he would be taking on an apprentice in alchemy, a young man by the name of Mustang. If my memory served me, the Mustang boy would be arriving today as well. My hand hovered over a dress with a low but modest neckline. _This one looks nice; it won't be too eye-catching, but I won't blend into the wall either..._ I eventually decided to play it safe and go with Mother's sundress. After all, I had never met Mustang before. I didn't know how old he was, what he looked like, or anything except his last name. It wouldn't do to try winning over someone I had never met before they even arrived; the idea was just ridiculous.

So what if I was a little lonely? That wasn't anything new…

 _You're only eighteen, Riza. Stop thinking like that. He'll be here to learn alchemy, not to be your friend._ I sighed. Growing up was harder than anyone had ever told me. _Look at it this way,_ I told myself wearily, _how likely is it that this apprentice will have better manners than the last two? Nobody nice ever comes here._

I went downstairs to begin preparing for the rest of the day. _Eggs, bacon, toast...maybe orange juice? Or water? Put out both and put away what he doesn't drink._ I made our breakfasts, and Father walked downstairs after I had finished plating them. _He actually slept in his bedroom for once, instead of that stuffy study._ He poured a glass of water, and I put the orange juice away. We didn't speak until he looked out the window, and said, "The sunrise is especially bright today."

I nodded. "It is." The weather was particularly clear. "It's nice." I didn't mention my apprehension about the arrival of his apprentice. It was stupid, not worth talking about to someone as busy as he was. _I know better than to bother him when he's in a decent mood; they happen so rarely._

"You look very nice today. I think that dress looks good on you."

My thoughts whirled as I tried to read his expression. _Was he observant enough to notice that it was Mother's? Is he upset, but unwilling to show it yet? Will he still be angry later that I wore her dress?_ The corners of his eyes wrinkled as he smiled, and I felt a wave of relief. "Thank you, Father." I muttered, grateful that his compliment was genuine.

The morning wore on without incident one way or the other, and I eventually found myself back up in my room, wondering what to do to pass the time. There were plenty of books to read, and I still didn't know the ending to that adventure novel I had started last week, but I felt an urge to be outside. I grabbed an old, battered field guide and a beaten up notebook and pencil, and put on a light coat before venturing out to observe the parts of the world you couldn't find in many books.

One of the only things that interested me around here was the environment. The natural world was full of so many things to see and do, and I always did have an eye for detail. I usually came out here to play a game with myself, a sort of test. _What can I see? How much can I know based on a single glance?_ I tried to capture as much detail about a single thing that I could, and then compared what I found to the field guide. To challenge myself, I still tried to do something different every time I played the game, but after a few years of watching birds and bugs and plants, it got harder and harder to find _anything_ new.

I caught a glimpse of rapid movement out of the corner of my eye, unusual for such a short distance into the forested band surrounding the river that ran through town. My eyes flicked right, and I saw the flutter of orange wings as a butterfly flitted across my vision. _Orange and black. Fairly large, but not overwhelmingly so; wingspan of about 7 centimeters. White spots on the edges of wingtips. Monarch? Black stripe curving horizontally across underwings. Viceroy! They don't usually move this far away from the alder trees._

I glanced at the ground in front of me, being sure to avoid the roots I knew were underfoot. The butterfly flitted past me again, looping around the tiny clearing in lazy circles that seemed incongruous with its frantic wingbeat. It flew suddenly away, darting in apparent panic at the nearness of my waiting finger. I stared after it, a small frown crossing my face as I watched the retreating wings of Mother's favorite butterfly. Wondering what could have driven it this far upstream, I followed it, my feet following paths I had long ago memorized.

After almost a half an hour trying to find out where the lone viceroy was going, I finally managed to catch it sitting still on a low-hanging branch. Retrieving my notebook and pencil, I sat on the ground below it, trying to capture the delicate shapes in the wings from below, just for a challenge. As I drew, a shrill cry from above me sent a chill down my spine. Looking up, I saw a hawk soaring over me. A drop of blood fell from the prey it was holding in its talons, landing on a leaf. I shuddered, thinking of the poor mouse or vole that hadn't been careful enough to avoid becoming breakfast. The hawk dove suddenly, alighting on a large tree not far from the edge of the forest. _Maybe it nests there._ I normally preferred to stay away from predatory animals so I wouldn't provoke them accidentally, but the chance to see hatchlings up close was just too good to pass up. _If I climbed the next tree over, on the opposite side, I'm sure it wouldn't be too threatening._

Venturing back towards the dirt road leading into town from the nearest city, I carefully scaled a tree near the hawk, avoiding looking it in the eyes or startling it. Sure enough, there were at least two chicks in the large nest, with the adult hawk standing a close watch over them. The chicks weren't quite feathered fully, but they were almost there. By midsummer, they might begin to fly on their own.

A strange sound echoed across the road from me, and I saw someone walking along the normally empty road. The noise came from their hand, which was spinning a small, round object on a long chain. _Is that...a pocketwatch?_ The only State Alchemist I had ever seen around here was Father. If another had suddenly appeared... _Does the military need my father's alchemy now? Not that it would make much difference if he left..._

The watch was indeed made of some silvery metal; I could see it glinting as the alchemist got closer. They wore a long, dark blue coat with black slacks and dusty shoes. _It's definitely a stranger, I've never seen them before. A man...no, still a boy, but just barely. Tall, but not too tall. Black hair, dark eyes, slightly tanned skin. Nice coat, but not too nice; probably around the same economic class as Father and I. Proud and purposeful, walks with intent. He's handsome._

 _...Very handsome._

Blushing, I dismissed _that_ thought and took a more objective look. His shadow was stretched behind him by about six feet, taller than he was. I looked at the sky, and saw the sun heading down towards the western horizon. _Father will want lunch soon, and I should warn him about this strange alchemist. He might be bringing news on Father's apprentice._

I slowly climbed down the tree, retreating into the forest before the rapidly approaching young man could see me climbing a tree in a sundress. _It would be terribly embarrassing, and I do_ _ **not**_ _want to have that conversation with Father_ _ **again**_ _. It's bad enough he won't buy me anything to climb in, but if he forbids me from climbing in general one more time…_

I ran, as quietly as possible, until the forest started to move further towards the road, towards the open. The road, shying away from the shaded trees, bent with it, and I continued straight ahead, knowing that as long as I headed directly for home, I would arrive at least a half hour before the visiting alchemist did.

 ***EOHH***

I put the last of the dishes away, making sure that Father's had no remaining soot stains on the bottoms, and hung up the dish towels outside on the clothesline. Removing a few shirts and sheets, I carried the laundry in through the back door just in time to hear a knock at the front. Hastily stowing the unfolded laundry out of sight, I hurried to the door, my mind racing. _Who could it be? There's almost never any visitors here… there are only two likely options. It's either that alchemist from the road, or my Father's new apprentice. I hope he's more well-mannered than the last one…_

I slowly opened the door, the relatively thin panel of wood hiding most of my body. "Hello?" I asked quietly. "Who is it…" My eyes widened slightly, and I can't help but allow my mouth to fall just barely open. It's the alchemist from the road, and he's smiling. _He's smiling at me. Nobody does that anymore._ I averted my eyes, forcing my face into behaving itself.

The young man gave a sharp wave of his hand and spoke. "Hello, there. Uh...is this the residence of one Master Hawkeye? I'm a prospective student of his, Roy Mustang."

 _Mustang? Oh,_ _ **no**_ … _**This**_ _is Mustang?! But...I…_ I vaguely heard a mumbled question, and asked, "Pardon?" I kept my voice neutral, despite my panic.

"May I ask your name? I wasn't aware that Master Hawkeye had anyone living with him." He held out a hand, and I stared at it for only a second or two before grasping it with my own.

"I'm…" _Nobody, really, just the girl who watched you from a treetop an hour ago…_ "My name is…"

"Riza!" shouted Father, irritation evident in his tone. "Who's at the door? And where are those flasks I requested? My tests cannot continue without them!" I winced, glancing backward at the chemical flasks I had been washing along with the dishes. The apprentice, Mustang, looked at me with a kind expression.

"Want me to try handling this? I'll make sure you don't get in too much trouble; he sounds like a pretty grouchy old man." He winked lightly, striding past me and giving another nonchalant wave. I pointed to the flasks silently, afraid to speak for fear of saying the wrong thing. He smiled again. "Thanks, Riza." He picked up the flasks deftly and carried them to the door of my father's study, also at my silent direction.

 _Grouchy old man...you have no idea, Mustang._

 ***EOHH***

I kept reading that book. It was an old folk tale, from the country of Xing, about a girl who disguised herself as a man and went to war. It was a fascinating tale, but I wasn't sure how it was going to end. After all, if she was discovered to be a woman, she would be executed immediately. She had also begun to fall in love with another soldier. I admired her for her positivity, but honestly doubted the outcome of her affections. After all, when does love ever last for long? _My Mother loved me, and she died. My Father loved her, and he's nearly a hermit now. I loved my Father and my Mother, but in a way, they both abandoned me._

My reverie was broken by footsteps entering my room, the door bouncing loudly off the wall. "Riza." I closed the book slowly, folding the sheets of my bed over it before turning to face my Father. Standing behind him, just outside of the threshold, is the new apprentice. "This is Roy Mustang. He will be training under me, and living with us for approximately a year. Please show him to his room; I will retire to my study." He turned to Mustang and stopped. "What are you doing? Don't just stand around like an idiot; introductions are pointless if you don't enter the room!"

Mustang cast a sideways look at the retreating back of my father, his eyes wide with disbelief. He looked at me and shrugged his shoulders, his eyes questioning. Once Father had left earshot, he asked quietly, "May I come in?"

I nodded, fighting the urge to stare at the only young man I had ever met who had treated me as an equal. "Yes," I said, pulling my bedsheets further over the storybook. He stepped carefully over the boundary, looking around my modest room. His gaze landed on the bookshelves, and he smiled.

"So, you're no slouch in your studies either. I have to say, I haven't been keeping up with that as much as I should these days."

"That's a shame," I responded, unsure of what was going on. _Is he trying to be friendly? Maybe he expects some sort of returning gesture, like the equivalent exchange Father is always muttering about._ "I guess, if you want, you could borrow one or two. But there's nothing on alchemy here."

His smile didn't waver, but a flicker of… something passed through his eyes. "I can understand your concern, but sometimes it's nice to learn something really new." _He's genuinely interested in knowing things, not just alchemical secrets. He's not like Father, or any of his former apprentices._ I walked over to the bookshelf and pulled out a thin book on birds. Without thinking, my hand hovered over the old field guide. Mother's field guide. I hesitated, not sure if even looking at it while someone else was here was a good idea.

"Is that a good one?" I heard him ask, and I whirled around to see him standing only a few feet behind me. "It looks well used."

"It's nothing," I mumbled, and grabbed the one next to it, a thicker, more ponderous volume on insects and other bugs. "This one should be better reading." I handle it gingerly, almost afraid it would drop out of my hands and fall open on the section about spiders… A chill ran through me, but I managed to hide my disgust, handing off the two books to my father's apprentice.

I watched his face, noting the upward shift in one eyebrow. "This big one looks barely touched."

"I only ever needed to read it once." We briefly locked eyes, and he looked away.

I walked past him, leaving him behind as I said, "I was supposed to show you to your room. I'm sorry, it's right this way."

He quickly followed me, and as I stood in front of the guest bedroom, I could see a lingering look of confusion on his face.

"This is where you'll be staying while you're here." I opened the door and waited for him to enter. "If you have any personal effects you'd like to keep safe, there are locking drawers on the desk." I gesture to a simple wooden plank nailed onto the wall next to the bed, supported by a few wooden rods at a diagonal, saying, "The key is on that shelf over there."

"Thanks, but I don't think anyone here's likely to steal this old thing." He lifted the pocketwatch, dangling it by its chain. It was made of old silver, tarnished and dull in places, and the design pressed into the cover was not the draconian symbol of the State Alchemists.

He stowed the watch away, his lingering, easy smile growing pained and rigid. "It's all I've got, really." His gaze strayed across the short hallway, to the door at the far end. The brass doorknob was tarnished. "Is that Master Hawkeye's room?"

I nodded curtly. "He rarely uses it."

He walked up to the door, and carefully turned the knob. I followed him, reaching my arm out to stop him, but just before I got to him, he opened the door. I shuddered, and turned my head, but not before I saw what was inside.

It hadn't changed. There wasn't a single object out of place. Every sheet, every blanket, every bit of jewelry. The mirror, the perfumes, they were all there. Everything my Mother had owned besides her books (and those sundresses) was here, untouched.

I grabbed his sleeve, lightly pulling him back. "Please," I whispered, "don't. There are memories in there." I felt my throat trying to tighten, forced my eyes to stem the tears that had started to form before he could see them. I kept my head turned, but still felt his gaze on me as he slowly closed the door and backed away.

"Hey, Riza…" He put his hand on mine, barely touching it, and asked quietly, "Are you okay?" The gesture was enough to send chills through me.

I quickly let go of his sleeve, snatching my hand back and walking quickly into my own room. "I'm just fine," I blurted shakily, and slammed my door in his face as he tried to approach me.

I leaned against the slim wooden panel, my breath catching in my throat. I looked at the bookshelf, at the old battered field guide my Mother used when she worked. I listened until I heard Mustang walk into his room, and slowly slid down the door, silent tears leaking out of my control.

 ***EOHH***

The next day, I woke up at the usual hour, the sun just beginning to slide above the bank of fog that occupied the horizon. I shook myself from the embrace of sleep, and began to compile a list of chores that had to be done today. _Thanks to my encounter with Mustang yesterday, I still have a load of laundry that needs to be washed._ I frowned in annoyance as I went to start breakfast. Father's apprentice might become a nuisance around the house. _He's trying to open doors that don't need to be reopened in the first place. I can't afford to have that lingering as a distraction._

Steps creaked as Mustang himself walked slowly downstairs a little while later, feet shuffling awkwardly as he yawned. He looked like he was still asleep, his eyes bleary and hair in total disarray. I quickly looked back to the eggs I was cooking, trying not to notice the amount of shirt he had left unbuttoned on his pajamas. _He's not here for you, or even for Father. He's here to learn alchemy, and that's all he'll get. Right?_

 _...Right…_

"Hey, Riza. Thanks for making breakfast. Honestly, this guy must work you so hard...Does he ever even leave that study at all?" Mustang's tired drawl reached across the dining room, and I heard a soft thunk as he slumped into a chair at the table. I peered over my shoulder at him. "You'd think he'd eat at some point, amiright?" His eyes sprouted tiny tears alongside them as he yawned even louder and larger than before.

I shrugged. "My Father almost always eats in his study," I replied as I placed his small breakfast in front of him. "You better hurry. He likes to start teaching early."

Mustang looked stunned. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and stared at my face. It was unnerving, and I looked away. He finally managed to speak. "Wait… You're his _daughter?_ "

I rolled my eyes. "Is something wrong?" I asked, irritation creeping into my voice.

The apprentice blushed slightly, shaking his head and waving his hands in front of him at exactly the same speed. "No, no, it's not...I mean, well...He doesn't… _treat_ you like family, that's all."

"I've gotten used to it," I bluntly replied, not liking where this conversation was going.

Mustang seemed to look at me funny, as if he was debating about whether or not to tell me something. "Well…" He awkwardly began. "I don't know if you know this, but… well, you see…"

I raised a single eyebrow in his direction. "Get to the point."

"Um, it's just that, there've only been rumors about Master Hawkeye having a daughter. Most people say that he lives by himself, so… I was just surprised to learn that someone as beautiful as you could be related to him."

I gave him a withering glance, trying to gauge his words. _He seems genuine about his compliment… unlike the previous apprentices. I'm pretty sure their endgame was to… never mind._

Mustang met my gaze, his face still looking a bit discouraged, but his eyes steeling against my glare. "I mean, it's not like you look anything like the guy anyway. I don't think you've got a single facial feature in common, and, well… you _are_ pretty, you know."

"I honestly don't. The only other girl I've really met was my Mother, and… that's another story. One that I _don't_ feel like telling," I emphasized as I watched curiosity grow alongside incredulity in his eyes.

I turned back, looking at the clock above the stove. _Eight thirty… Father won't be happy about this._ I allowed a tiny smile to pull at the corner of my mouth as I counted down in my head. _Five...four...three...two...one…_

Several stomping footfalls sounded through the door to father's study before the man himself emerged, snarling slightly, and I glanced over my shoulder to watch the show. _It's not every day he's mad at someone else_. "Mustang," he growled, "You are late." The apprentice quickly stuffed one of the two eggs into his mouth, standing up and saluting. _Maybe he's a soldier as well as a snoop,_ I think to myself as Father grabbed the outstretched arm away from Mustang's head and grew even angrier. _This actually might not end well._ I began to pity the young man, averting my eyes as Mustang yelped in pain. "Don't you start that ridiculous gesturing!" Father snarled. "Military customs are as unwelcomed here as the military itself! I may be a State Alchemist, but I refuse to be seen as a government dog!"

I silently watched Mustang as he was dragged away in my Father's iron grip towards the direction of what I liked to call the Ash Castle. In reality, it was where my Father went to experiment his latest advancements in flame alchemy. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. Hopefully Mustang's first day won't bring him back inside the house covered head to toe in ash, because I just washed the floors yesterday… and I do _not_ want to have to rewash the floors due to Father showing off his dangerous experiments to his latest protégé.

 ***EOHH***

I heard the small explosions stop briefly, and sighed in relief. It was finally over. They were done blasting themselves halfway deaf, it seemed, at least for the day. I pulled the load of laundry I had forgotten yesterday out of the washbasin, preparing to hang it up to dry. A tingling shiver ran up my leg, and I looked down quickly to see a spider crawling across my shoe. I froze, and my heart hammered in my chest. I tried to remember to breathe, but it was so difficult to move the air trapped in my chest. This one was bigger than usual, with long, spindly legs and a narrow body. I could almost see a small tan blotch on its head, shaped unnaturally similar to a violin… _Brown Recluse spider…the Fiddlehead._

 _Calm down, Riza, please. Please, just try to keep breathing. That's how she died, remember? That's what killed her, suffocation. The venom of the Brown Recluse causes necrosis, but she died from the pain…from being unable to breathe properly…_ An eternity passed, each hour marked by a twitch of its legs, a year in the wagging of its abdomen. It wandered into the grass at my feet, and I waited a few minutes after that to relax, allowing my breathing to normalize. _No venom. No poison in my veins, just my own pulse. The spider wasn't going to kill me. It...it wasn't even the right shade of brown._

The snap of a branch startled me, and I looked up towards the cause of the sound, only to find my Father's apprentice, still in his pajamas, awkwardly staring up at the huge tree that held the far end of the clothesline, as if to avoid making eye contact with me. I furrowed my eyebrows in annoyance. "How long have you been standing there?" I demanded. _I need to know if he saw something, anything relating to the… spider._

The young man's eyes slightly widened with fear before reverting to a straight faced expression. He scratched the back of his head, in an effort to buy time to think of a possible explanation of how long he had been watching me. "Uh, um… not that long. I didn't see anything, I promise. I was actually curious about the history of this tree. The lifespan of trees always fascinated me, and I've been meaning to read up on their history."

I rolled my eyes at the obvious lie and watched the apprentice move his gaze to his shoes, unwilling to look me in the eye. "Alright then. Lunch will be soon. Father may want you to work through it, unless he feels generous. Then again, because of the salute you made..." I shrugged, almost feeling sorry for him. _Hopefully this apprentice picks up on Father's actions quickly…_

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mustang leap into motion, running off to find Father. Undoubtedly, he wouldn't have to look that hard, seeing that Father only favors two places on the property.

Heaving a sigh of exasperation as Mustang raced off in the wrong direction, his silhouette flying past the window on the opposite side of the house, I continued to hang the laundry and hoped that the apprentice didn't suffer from too many more storms of temper over the next few days. _He may not be the most polite once you get to know him, but he's a better person than any of the others. I'd hate to see him get really hurt by Father._

 _God knows Father's capable of hurting when he's mad. But nobody knows as well as me…_

* * *

 ** _We hope you enjoyed the first chapter! More to follow soon!_**

 ** _~warehouseluver13~_**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Here's the next chapter! Please read and review! Also, just to let you guys know, I plan on updating at least once a month. Not really sure when though, due to my crazy schedule. We hope you enjoy the next installment!**_

 ** _Disclaimer: We do not own Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang, Fullmetal Alchemist, or FMA: Brotherhood. They belong to their respective owners._**

 ** _Author's Note: Italics are Riza's thoughts._**

 _ **~warehouseluver13~**_

* * *

I grumbled under my breath as soon as I was sure Father couldn't hear me. He had brought in ash and char. Again. Another set of footprints wandered throughout the house, no doubt from Mustang trying so hard to find Father in every room _except_ the study in his panic. _The soot-walkers are multiplying. And growing dumber._

I managed to remove Father's sooty prints; they were at least lighter. But Mustang's tracks were heavy, since he was running at full throttle when he put them down. "One of these days, someone's going to realize just how inconvenient they are and beg for my forgiveness. That's not too much to hope for, right?" I mumbled to myself. _That girl in the Xingese story never had to do anything strenuous or humiliating like this until she joined the military. Here I am, a proud Amestrian floor-scrubber and dish-washer living with two alchemists that seem bent on wielding fiery chaos until the whole house is black. I hate this. I hate all of it._

 _I want to be with Mother again..._

A faint voice called my name, softly. It brushed past at the edge of my hearing, seeming almost dreamlike. I stopped scrubbing at the stubborn bootprint and cocked my head to listen. It sounded almost like Mother…

The voice grew louder and rougher, snapping me out of my daydream. "Hey. Riza. Can you hear me?" I turned around, still on my hands and knees, to see a sliver of eye peeking out from under the door behind me. Roy's room. My face turned red, and I stood up quickly, preparing to scorch him like the fire and ash he apparently loved to cover himself with, when he muttered, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry if I startled you, just… come on. Come in, I'm hiding from your skinny behemoth of a dad."

I opened the door, trying not to giggle as it thumped into his forehead. _Payback..._ He stood up and waved a strange pair of gloves in the air, whispering frantically. "I need your help. You see, your dad - eh, my Master - gave me an assignment, and I've been having difficulty completing it." He put on the gloves, and I saw what could only be an alchemical circle traced in red on the backs of the hands. I shook my head slowly as he continued. "I have to make fire with these, but I can't get them to work! I've tried almost everything, but I just can't get a spark up!"

I shook my head a little more, for emphasis, and mumbled, "I'm no alchemist. It's none of my business that you're stupid." Watching his hurt expression, I sighed in defeat. "Look," I whispered harshly, "as much as I hate to say this, it might not be entirely your fault; quite unlike the tracks I was cleaning up, might I add, those were all your fault."

He blushed guiltily, but listened carefully as I continued. "My father most likely gave you one of his older sets of gloves. He's got a few, I've had to repair most of them after they failed."

"Failed?" Mustang's eyebrows rose incredulously.

"Yes, failed. The earlier ones never worked quite right. Maybe he gave you the ones that wouldn't start to test your patience."

"Son of a bitch… Okay, then. One more try, and that's it for now." He blinked, glanced at the gloves, and blinked again. "What _haven't_ I tried?"

I thought back to the times when Father didn't yet have his Ash Castle. I heard a lot of different sounds from his study before explosions ever thundered against my ears. I just had to remember the last one…

"Father snapped," I blurted, looking at the gloves. "To use the gloves, he eventually started getting the best results when he tried snapping."

The apprentice's wide, dark eyes rolled in his head as he cursed some more. "Aw, fuck...Of course. Why didn't I think of it? The high friction in a small area is ideal for generating heat!" He put one of the gloves on, and I backed away slowly.

"Don't worry," he said. "These are the faulty ones, right? They couldn't possibly generate enough power to cause any damage." Before I could stop him, Mustang had

snapped his fingers, and I stumbled into a corner as a large, roiling cloud of flames burst into existence for a fraction of a second. Reeking fumes wafted from the apprentice's burnt hair and shirt, and I quickly smothered the smoldering edges of the burns with the long coat he had hung on a nail in the wall.

"Faults don't always mean weaknesses," I sighed, slapping one last time at the coat before making sure there was nothing else to connect me to the scene.

 _Just when I thought this one was more intelligent than the others, he decides to be stupid and reckless. Hopefully Father won't be too angry when he finds out what his young apprentice attempted to do within the house._

 _Who am I kidding? He'll be angry, all right…_ "You should have done this in the Ash Castle, Mustang. Now come on. Take those off and don't say anything." I gestured to the gloves and his ruined shirt.

"Wh-what?!" He hastily stripped the shirt off, but quickly grabbed the coat I had used to put him out, draping it over himself and quickly buttoning it up after getting his arms through the sleeves. As his hands emerged, I snatched at the gloves impatiently. "Hey, watch it!" he hissed.

I rolled my eyes. "Get to the bunker and try to act like you have no idea what you're doing; it shouldn't be hard. I'll make sure he can't tell anything happened here." His bewildered eyes met my hard glare.

"Why are you doing this for me? I kinda thought you couldn't stand me…" His face looked so honestly flustered.

I quickly glanced at Mustang. "Well, I've seen what my Father has done to his past apprentices that have made mistakes; trust me, it's better for both of us if he doesn't find out about this." _What the hell, Riza? This apprentice hasn't even been here for 48 hours, and you've already grown attached to him like a vine to a tree! Focus! Get your act together! At the rate he's going, who knows if he will even make it to the end of his first week!_

A shy smile crossed his features. "Well, uh, thank you, Riza. I really appreciate you doing this for me." I said nothing in response as the dark-haired apprentice made his exit from the room to make his way to the Ash Castle.

After making absolutely sure that any charred scraps from his burnt shirt were gone and opening up the window to ventilate the room, I followed him over to the one place I had never been inside. I didn't want to go in, and Father never asked me to, so I had maintained a safe distance, but now… Mustang's position here depended on this, and idiot or no, he actually wanted to be nice to me. I couldn't let that go, no matter how hard I tried.

I heard Mustang talking to my Father, even before I approached within ten feet of the structure. The two windows had no glass or shutters, just bars, so sound carried easily. They didn't sound upset, so I assumed that Father had been fooled by Mustang's charade. _He must have some passing skill at acting._ The idea should have been a comfort, since that meant he wouldn't be thrown out, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't such a good thing. _What if his kind attitude is an act, too? What if my sympathy for him is based on...a lie?_

A quiet snap preceded a loud burst of rushing sound, a heavy _**WHOOMPF**_ that almost made me jump. A pillar of smoke rose from the other side of the Castle, and I rushed around the building to see the grass outside of it burning! I ran back to the side of the house, snatching up the huge tub I used to wash the clothes. Frantically, I planted it under the spigot set into the wall, pouring out as much water as I could. As the rising cloud of smoke expanded, I yanked the little wheel closed and hauled the half-full basin over to the patch of smoldering lawn, almost throwing myself off-balance in my attempt to put out the spreading flames. The water sloshed heavily over the grass, and it turned into a large grey-brown wave as the charred plant life disintegrated under the water's sweeping force.

I sent a dark glare directly at Mustang as he gaped through the window at the patch of soot he had burned into the ground. Father looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or shout, and he finally calmed down long enough to explain. "Those gloves are functional, but they lack any sort of precision. In order to do anything as simple as lighting a candle, you need to exert total focus. They're perfect for training reckless fools like you. Trust me, Roy, you'll have no trouble with the final product once you master _these_ disasters."

Mustang and I both stared in shock at Father, but as I should have expected, he only noticed the apprentice's reaction. "You gave me these things on _purpose_?" A muscle on Mustang's neck twitched in time with his eyebrow. "If they're so damn unpredictable, couldn't they _kill_ us?!"

"If you can't focus enough to control them, it's a possibility that flame alchemy is not for you, anyway." Father spoke dispassionately, barely acknowledging the obvious anger Mustang felt. "It takes willpower to keep something as dangerous as fire in check. If you want to control it, you need to control yourself first. Start with your thoughts, and then work on your alchemy. One is not ever separate from the other."

I never really had the chance to see Father actually teaching a pupil, but the advice he gave Mustang had some meaning behind it. It honestly surprised me. _Who knew Father had it in him to actually mentor an apprentice?_ Another voice startled me. It was Mustang. "What about you? How can you talk to me about controlling myself when every time I see you talking to your own daughter, you're shouting? She works hard for you, and you don't give her a thing."

I looked at him wide eyed. _Does he even realize who he's facing off against?! Is he_ _ **trying**_ _to get hurt or something? What the hell is he thinking, speaking out of turn to his teacher?_

Father's face went totally red, and I slowly dragged the wooden tub away, hoping to escape notice for just a little longer. Mustang was about to get into a fight with an older, more experienced alchemist, and if things got physical… or even alchemical… I had no intention of being there to witness it. I just… I didn't want to see _that_ from the outside. _Being in a fight with my Father is hard enough, but having to watch one… I don't want to see my bruises on Mustang's face._

Father grabbed the apprentice's collar, lifting him into the air by his heavy coat. "You had better watch your tongue, boy! It could get you into trouble you can't outfox, you know." His voice was cold, but I could hear the roaring anger behind it, see the feral glint of rage in his eyes. "Riza is none of your concern. Her life is connected to yours by a single thread, and that's _me_. If you want to defend her so badly, then know this: I am her guardian, her caretaker, and her blood parent. I have put my energy towards two children, and she is one of them. The other is my alchemy. Only one of the pair still needs me to be nurturing."

His gnarled fists release, and Mustang falls heavily to the floor of the Ash Castle. I abandon the tub, taking off at a sprint into the forest behind the laundry tree as Father emerges from the steel and stone structure. _He's still angry. I know it, I can feel it. He might think I told that stupid apprentice to say that. He might come after me, too. I have to go where he won't follow me!_

 ***EOHH***

The rush of my heartbeat pulsed through my ears as I frantically took off running through the forest that abuts the yard, racing towards the last place Father would ever go near; Mother's water garden. It was once her sanctuary when she was alive, and became her final resting place when she died. I let out a sigh of relief once I made it into the clearing that housed the pond. It was modest in size, and a small island sat in the middle, with a beautiful tree that was planted to mark Mother's resting place.

My breath still rattled in my chest as I stared at the small tree in the distance. It had only been here for five years, but ever since it was planted, I had grown to love it even as Father tried to hate it. Its leaves quivered in the light breeze that pushed its way through the trees and bushes surrounding the clearing. The flickers of green seemed almost unreal, and I knew that this, somehow, was how Mother must have looked at every tree she saw.

I sat on the ground in front of the wide, shallow pond, watching ripples drift across the greenish water. A tiny minnow swam up to investigate my presence, and I smiled at its curiosity as I finally began to relax. I took off my shoes and dipped my toes in the water, startling the miniscule fish and creating more calming ripples.

 _*snap*_

 _ **Fwoomp!**_

A rush of heat swept past my face, and I smelled the stink of burning...something. A small blackened shape sailed past my head, and it landed about a foot to my left. It was smoking. Whirling in surprise, I thought for sure I would see my furious Father… but a dark eye shone from within the brush, and a white glove extended from the sleeve of a dark blue coat. Mustang stepped out into the clearing, gesturing apologetically to the tiny black husk. "Sorry about that, didn't mean to scare you. In fact, it was kinda the opposite… I couldn't help noticing you're terrified of spiders. I, ah, I saw the one on your shoe, when you were doing the laundry."

I felt a building anger towards Mustang, and tried to figure out how he had even followed me here in the first place. "This isn't just some place you can waltz into and flash that stupid smile and hope you get in my good favor! This is...wait. What?" I glanced back at the little black thing, my skin crawling. "That's a...a spider?"

"It was going to drop on you. I had to do something, but you just looked so happy. I didn't want to bother you, so...I got it." He held up his right hand, wiggling his fingers and displaying the transmutation circle.

 _Was he expecting a thank you, or something? Wait a minute… He actually got it. Using Father's defective flame alchemy gloves, he… he killed a_ _ **spider**_ _. For me._

"You got it."

"Yeah." He walked slowly over to me, sitting next to me and crossing his legs.

"But you don't understand. Roy… you actually _got_ it. You just killed a spider with defective gloves." I stared at his face, watching the amazement dawn in his eyes.

"I did, didn't I?! I… I actually hit a target! A _tiny, moving target!_ This is amazing!" He stopped, his eyes slowly shifting from staring excitedly at the gloves to looking into my eyes. "And...you...just said my name. You called me Roy."

I replayed what I said to him over and over, processing the fact that I had indeed called him by his first name. I couldn't believe it. _Of all the times to lapse…_ I tried to close my mouth, which had been hanging open, but it felt like I still wanted to say something. What? What was I going to say?

His face broke into a wide grin, and he began laughing. "I can't believe this. You actually do sorta like me. It's incredible, I thought I would never get on your good side!"

I shyly smiled back. " _Don't_ push your luck, Roy." I could feel my cheeks heating up, and tried to look away from him.

He continued to laugh as he lightly brushed his shoulder against mine. "I wouldn't dream of it, Riza." My smile, the crack in the wall I had built, started splitting wider. I tried to stop it, begged to keep the damage minimal, but some part of me didn't want to.

It felt liberating. I smiled, and I could feel my eyes wrinkle upwards a bit. Warmth spread throughout my body, and I felt a little more… alive than before. The tree rustled again, and I swear I could hear the wind whispering encouragingly. _If this is what it's like to be damaged… break me open. I don't want this wall anymore._

I watched the sunlight play along the water, reflecting itself on Roy's face in the wake of my toes' idle twiddling. _Roy seems to be very… real, all of a sudden. Does he feel like this, too?_

 _Is he as damaged as I am?_

"So." His voice broke my train of thought. "I don't mean to pry, and you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but why did you run _here?_ What makes it different?"

I lightly kicked my feet in the shallow pond, startling the marine life away from the surrounding area, trying to buy myself some time to put my thoughts in order. _Can I really trust him? Do I_ _ **really**_ _trust him enough to tell him about Mother?_

 _I don't know. But… I think I want to._

"It's...it's a reminder of my Mother." I sighed, not wanting to bother him with the whole story. "She...She's dead. We buried her on that little island over there. Under that tree." I felt a gentle touch against my back, and looked to see Roy's arm stretched out to comfort me. His eyes were shining with the hints of tears. My own began to well up in response. "She loved it out here, with all of the trees and flowers, and the river running through it. It was her passion, she loved the world. It's the whole reason our house is here, the reason I still keep her field guides in my bookshelf. She was a naturalist."

"You know," Roy mumbled, his usually strong voice shaking a little, "I think it's brave of you. You know, to be like her. Your father's hard, like he can't stop hating everything, but you sound like you can't keep yourself from loving it. It's...beautiful."

I shake my head, hot streams of tears now falling down my cheeks. "He isn't like that, not really. He's just hurting, and he's mad at himself more than anything."

"That's no excuse for the way he treats you. If you take after her as much as I think you might, why doesn't he treat you like a daughter instead of a housemaid?"

I looked at him, at his clenched jaw and shaking fist. "He can't bear it," I whispered, putting my own hand over his, pushing his fist down gently. "I'm too much like her. He loves my Mother so much that he hates me because I'm like her, and he can't figure out what's right. I know it's wrong, but he can't help himself. I know he's cruel, but he just misses her." _I know I hate him too, but I can't accept that he really deserves it..._

"That doesn't mean I have to like it!" Roy looked at me, and his gaze softened. "Although…" A wry, half-humorous smile crossed his face, and he started to laugh. "I know how he feels, I think," he mumbled dryly. "I've spent my whole life missing people I've never met."

I glanced at his eyes, wondering what his remark meant. He was staring at Mother's tree, and he looked so sad all of a sudden, as if he'd been hiding himself just like me.

"Your parents?" I softly asked. He just nodded, his nose wrinkling upward.

"They left me on the steps of a tavern. The owner took me in, raised me like I was hers, but I knew I wasn't. I still use her last name, though. It's only fair. She's the closest thing to a mother I'll ever get." He chuckled, still looking like he was as far from laughter as a funeral. "You still have your parents, or at least reminders of who they were. The only evidence I have of my parents' existence is me."

I looked at him, as if he was an enigma. _So kind and polite, even with all that loss in him._ Whoever raised him definitely did a good job… unlike his actual parents. At that thought, I began to grow furious towards the phantom strangers that had dared to leave this boy in the street. _What kind of parent decides to abandon their child like that? Why would they leave a baby in front of a tavern?!_ My teeth gritted, but Roy waved his hand. "I don't really blame them too much anymore; knowing the world we live in, they probably had reasons. I just wish they had given me something besides my first name to go along with this heap of problems most people call life."

"That doesn't excuse their actions; really, leaving you on the steps of a tavern!" I icily hissed.

Roy laughed again. "Now look who's talking. Looks like we're just a circle of screwed-up childhoods all tangled up in a knot now. I can't seem to let yours go, and you can't let go of mine. What a mess."

I cautiously reached for his hand, taking it into my own. "At least, with all this mess, something good has come out of the wreckage. I… I have a friend now." He blinked, glancing at my fingers lightly wrapping around his before looking back to Mother's tree, another beauty born of tragedy.

"Yeah," he muttered, smiling once more. "Yeah, you do."

 ***EOHH***

Glinting dewdrops were all that remained of the huge splash I had thrown over the smoldering grass by the time we breached the edge of the forest. We walked back to the house together, trying to hide our smiles from each other. As awful as it felt to close myself back up, I eventually felt uncomfortable letting tears and laughter flow so freely; the walls that had once held my soul in were still its refuge, and I was afraid that I might not be strong enough to handle more wounds to my spirit.

But it was still there, the feeling of freedom that I had embraced in that clearing with Mother's tree. I wasn't used to opening up to anything but pain and sorrow back there. Now I had something good to feel. Maybe...maybe I might get used to it, eventually. I looked at Roy out of the corner of my eye, a strange thought occurring to me. Maybe if she were alive...would Mother like him?

"Where have you been, both of you?" I froze my face into an image of perfect neutrality as my Father's voice intruded on my thoughts. Oh no. I hope Father has had enough time to cool off. "Mustang, your test results were due at least half an hour ago. Have you successfully managed to get a flame within ten feet of your intended target?"

Roy's mouth twitched into a smirk, but quickly leveled out as he replied, "Actually, Master, I hit an intended target dead-on. I killed a spider!" I shot a sideways glance at him, wondering why he was so totally confident in his skills. He did it once, but what would happen if he can't repeat it?!

Father raised an eyebrow, daring Roy to prove his impressive feat. "Go on," he drawled icily. "Pick a spider. Any spider. There are probably hundreds out here." I shuddered, sweeping my eyes over the suddenly threatening grass.

Roy looked at me first, his eyes concerned, before glancing at a web I had been avoiding all week near the roof of the house. A thin smile spreading across his face, he said, "That one right there," and pointed to the web stretched between the house's roof and the near end of the clothesline. My eyes widened, and I quickly shook my head, hoping he'd notice the warning. But he put on the glove, saying, "It'll be deep-fried in a second."

Father stared intently at the miniscule black dot in the silken net, a frown creasing his already wrinkled face further. Roy winked at me, and I stopped walking as he continued forward, snapping his fingers almost lazily. He made it look effortless, but I could see the determination in his face.

A small ball of roiling flames appeared far above the house, flashing an awkward ellipse before sizzling out. Roy's face fell, and I watched the web flutter in the wind, untouched.

"The next time you lie, Mustang," Father growled, "try to at least do so convincingly. Then at least you might just avoid the punishment you so rightly deserve." Roy spluttered helplessly as Father turned to go back inside. "The radio forecasts a bit of a chill tonight. You will stay out here until you have actually succeeded in your assigned test, without exceptions." He stopped at the door, turning his head slightly over his shoulder. "Come, Riza. It's time to get started on dinner."

I hesitantly walked forward, watching the barest flickers of emotion play across Roy's still face. "I'm sorry," I whispered, and he turned away from me, his fists clenching as I went inside to make a meal he was forbidden from eating.

* * *

 _ **We had a blast writing this chapter, so if you want to tell us your thoughts, leave us a comment below!**_

 _ **Also, please check out DarksteelRebelhawk's stories on Wattpad! They're amazing!**_

 _ **~warehouseluver13~**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Hello everyone! Here's the next update! We had a lot of fun writing this chapter, so we hope you enjoy! ^_^**_

 ** _Disclaimer: We do not own Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang, Fullmetal Alchemist, or FMA: Brotherhood. They belong to their respective owners._**

 ** _Author's Note: Italics are Riza's thoughts._**

 ** _~warehouseluver13~_**

* * *

I leaned out my window, letting a slithering gust of the night air into my room before quickly shutting it out again. _Father was putting it lightly; it's freezing._ I looked at Roy, still trying to make a flame hit that spider near the roof. After about a minute more, he waved his arms dismissively, visibly shivering as the wind blew straight through the flapping coat he was wearing, without any shirt underneath to trap his body heat. I looked at my own bed, still adorned with blankets left over from winter, and quickly reached a decision. I hauled a quilt off, grabbed my shoes and coat, and snuck out of my room as I watched Roy trudge resolutely to the edge of the forest.

I went down the stairs as quietly as possible, hoping that my Father was asleep somewhere; but the door to his study still had light filtering under it as I crept to the kitchen. There was a piece of chicken left over from dinner that I had saved away, stuffed hurriedly under the sink. I pulled it out, grabbed a small box from the cupboard above the stove, and went outside, wincing at the slightest noise I made. The studious rustling I heard from Father's study remained undisrupted.

The door closed quietly, thanks to my careful resistance to the wind that threatened to slam it. I heard the grinding smack of stone hitting stone, and hurried down the hill with the thin quilt in one hand and the plate of chicken in the other, the little box tucked in my coat pocket.

Roy was putting large rocks in a crude ring, looping them around a meager pile of sticks and fallen branches. _He's making a fire pit,_ I realized. _Will he use that as his target, to give himself more incentive?_ I shuddered as I approached, realizing that my own coat wasn't doing any better than his.

I walked up to the ring, waiting for him to turn around, not daring to speak. His head tilted back, his eye flicking towards me, and I saw him jump. I quickly put my finger to my lips, nodding my head towards the house up the hill. "He's still awake." I explained, and Roy nodded after he put down the last rock. He sat on the ground and began snapping in a slow, steady rhythm.

"Why are you out here?" _*snap*_

"You looked cold. I brought a blanket." I held out the quilt, hoping he would take it quickly. He just kept staring at the firepit, holding out his right hand with the glove. "A-and also some food," I added quietly, and his head turned. I could hear his stomach growling as he spotted the cold slab of chicken.

He reached out his left arm, and I noticed his hand shaking. "Thanks." His fingers curled reflexively around the small plate, and he barely stopped to grab the fork I provided before digging in. Stabbing the meat viciously, he took a large bite out of it, and I unfurled the quilt. By the time I had sat down next to him, he had eaten half of the chicken. His right hand tensed, and the plate with the chicken on it tipped precariously on his leg as his whole body responded to a single motion. _*snap*_

I threw the quilt behind us, reaching across him and wrapping it around him with one arm, even as the other pulled its opposite end tighter around me. I huddled closer to him, our shoulders touching, and he stopped moving. His head turned to look at me, the rest of his body as still as a statue, and he raised his eyebrows in confusion. "You have a bed."

"And you don't," I replied, nudging my elbow into his side. "I'm being helpful, so quit whining and eat my chicken."

Roy chuckled, wrapping his mouth around the last huge chunk of the chicken breast, and managed, only barely, to mumble, "e's gud shekn." _What a ridiculous thing,_ I found myself musing, shaking my head slowly. _Isn't he worried about choking?_ The tiniest hint of a smile twitched at the corner of my mouth, and Roy actually swallowed enough of the meat to pull off a half-decent grin.

After finishing his questionable mouthful, he resumed his clockwork snapping, staring without interruption at the firepit. "So...you do care. Enough to disobey your dad." I looked away, not wanting him to see me blushing. _*snap*_

"Of course I care, stupid," I replied. "I thought you'd die out here, the wind's like a knife." I fiddled with the quilt, pulling it tighter until I have to physically lean against him to keep the cold at bay. He moved the plate out of the way, holding out his left arm so that I could get closer. I hesitantly took him up on his silent offer, but only because of the cold.

 _Sure, Riza. And he ate the chicken because it's a Thursday._

After having to undergo the unusual task of telling myself to shut up, I pulled out the tiny wooden box from my coat pocket. _*snap*_

I placed it gently on his leg, painfully aware of how much I was shivering. "Y-you're taking a b-bit too long," I mumbled through stiff lips. My whole face started to feel numb as he slowly opened the box's sliding lid. We both stared at the small pile of matches inside.

His face contorted, looking angry and ashamed, and I slowly backed away, my eyes fearfully wide. _I just wanted to help you. I only wanted to keep you warm. I didn't want Father to be angry with you again_. All these excuses flashed through my mind, but I said nothing, even though I wanted to scream them all out loud.

His eyes flicked from the box to my face, and I saw the anger melt away, replaced immediately by dread and sadness. "Wait, no. Riza, I…" He choked up, and I blinked back a tear. The wind was getting harsher; it was hard to breathe. "Don't be scared. I'm… I'm not like him."

My face felt warmer, all of a sudden. I couldn't tell why, but it passed rather quickly as freezing teardrops slashed at my exposed cheeks, the cold air chilling them like they were ice. I felt one of them stop, and I looked down to see Roy's fingers held to my face. "Please," he mumbled, "don't be scared. Don't cry, Riza."

His arm was still held out, waiting for me to come closer again. I looked into his eyes, and saw him lower them at the sight of my half-frozen face. I warily inched closer, and his hand wrapped protectively around my shoulder, pulling the quilt around me once again. "I'm sorry if I upset you," he said clearly, "but I just can't accept the matches. It would mean that I failed, and...I can't let myself do that. Not so soon after I got here." He looked at the red symbols traced into the back of his glove and grimaced. "This is the only way I have left of getting anywhere in the world. I'm not giving up."

I watched the wind blow through his hair, saw the steely determination building in his eyes as he lifted the gloved hand once again. "I can't give up hope, Riza," he mumbled, "and you shouldn't have to either." I blinked. His jaw clenched. His fingers twitched.

 _*SNAP*_

A rush of air preceded a large puffing noise, the usual dense explosive sound carried behind us by the wind. There was no way Father could have heard it. But it had happened again. The fire was lit, and going strong. I was already starting to feel a little warmer.

Roy seemed unsatisfied somehow. He stood up, handing me the quilt, and trudged through the wind. Grabbing more branches off the ground, he cracked them over his knee and stomped them in half against the ground. After a few minutes, he carried the large bundle over, throwing about half of them onto the fire. A smile spread across his face, and he relaxed. The fire crackled and flickered as it rose higher and higher, fueled by the new sticks and the constant wind. "How did it not go out?" I wondered out loud.

Roy shrugged. "Best guess? It caught on too strong to be extinguished by the wind alone. Explosions tend to do that kind of thing."

"How did you know it would light that time?"

"I didn't. Had no clue, to be honest. But… I could feel you still shivering. I guess knowing that you had chosen to face my punishment with me made me a bit more motivated to get it done." He smiled wider. "And I was right to worry about you. Your cheeks are really windburned right now; your face is getting red."

I nodded, hiding behind his observation as an excuse for my furious blush. "It's really cold, if you haven't noticed," I jabbed. "You look like you've been painted purple."

Roy laughed, but I saw him sit down a little closer to the fire when he joined me under the quilt again. I nudged myself forward to keep pace, and we continued to get closer and closer to the light and heat until we were practically touching the ring of stones with our feet.

Roy looked oddly at ease, and I nudged him with my elbow. "You look almost pleased, but it's awful out here. You haven't even gone back inside yet, even though he'd let you if he saw what you did. Why stay outside?"

His contented gaze quickly turned sour, and his eyes narrowed. "I've had worse nights, believe it or not." His body went rigid, and I couldn't help wondering what kind of trouble he must have gone through growing up in a tavern. _He looks so...hardened. Like_ metal _that's been beaten one too many times over a forge._ "Compared to them, this is great." He smiled at me, his normal demeanor returning. "I've got a friend to keep me company. And bring me food, too." He picked up the empty plate, waving it in the air. "Your chicken was delicious."

"Its name was Alfred," I admitted. "I used to bother it because it kept trying to herd me like I was one of its hens. So I showed it who was boss and named it something silly."

"Alfred isn't so bad. I knew a musician named Alfred once. It's a classy name."

"Wasn't a classy rooster." I shook my head. "Father killed it because it was getting too noisy. Disrupting his work."

Roy clamped his mouth shut, shaking his head and looking back into the flames. "Not a classy dad, I've noticed."

"No." _Classy people don't scream at their thirteen-year-old children because they look like their dead wives. Classy people love people, not alchemy._ "Not classy."

Silence settled between us, a stifling silence that begged to be filled. I struggled to think of something, anything to say. _Anything...except Father._ Roy took off the flame glove, dangling it by its middle finger. He chuckled, but sobered up quickly as the awkward pause continued its intrusion. I had an idea. "Why here?"

Roy blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Why did you come here to learn flame alchemy?" He met my eyes, his face searching.

"Because your father's the only man who's close to figuring it out. It's complicated, and when I tried to do it myself, I...failed." His voice lost some of its bravado, and I could see his shoulders slump. "Like it or not, flame alchemy is too advanced for me to grasp without learning more about it first."

I felt his voice, so suddenly feeble, wash over me, and I couldn't take it. _You're stronger than that. You have to be, or else you'll let it win._ "You shouldn't be so depressed about this," I growled. "There are plenty of other problems that you could worry about. Don't let flame alchemy become anything more than what it is in your life. It's a science, a process, not some grand trophy or a glittering treasure. Not a child. Just alchemy. I...I don't want you to end up like my Father."

Roy looked at me, a determined expression spreading across his face. "Trust me, Riza, no matter how much alchemy means to me, I will _not_ allow it to consume my life. I've seen what it can do to people. I don't want to end up like… _that_. I want to have a life that's worth living, one that lets me help people instead of pushing them away."

I smiled, just a little, but it was enough to put him at ease. "I just want to leave," I said, watching the flames slowly lick at the charred sticks Roy had put down. "I want to get out of here, just to say I can." My tiny smile slowly evaporated. "I don't want to be near him, but at the same time...I still want him to love me properly again…"

I blushed, huddling into a sort of stooped curl underneath the quilt. "I'm sorry, you don't have to listen to me complain. I'm sorry." I shut up, staring at the toes of my shoes that poked out from under the blanket. I didn't look at Roy's face, too ashamed of how pitiful I really felt, how sad I really was. _Nobody wants to see that. Nobody ever has._

"I promise you Riza, one day you will leave this place. You'll leave your dad behind, and find a place that's actually worthy of your kindness. It's going to happen. It's got to happen. And you'll get the kind of love you really deserve, not this bullshit your father seems to spew every time he speaks. I...I think it might happen sooner than you would think."

My mind tried to wrap around that statement. _He seems so confident. What makes him so sure I'll ever escape Father? What sort of place is worthy of me if it isn't here? What...what love could I deserve? How could anything like that ever happen to me if I'm stuck like this, bound to the man that loves alchemy more than his own child?_ I tried to hide my thoughts by smiling, but it felt too false. I dropped it completely, staring into the fire that my Father's obsession brought into existence through my new friend. "I'm not so sure, Roy. I can't imagine any of that. I don't know how."

"You don't have to know. If there's one thing I learned about this great big mess we're all living through, it's that nobody ends up how they expect to. There's always a surprise. You've had just about as many bad ones as I have, but we're going to get a good kind of surprise someday. The universe owes both of us that much, if nothing else."

I nodded blankly, trying to understand how something so uncaring could owe anybody a thing. "I guess we'll have to disagree on that. If the universe is as big as we think it is, it probably doesn't give a shit."

Roy blinked, his eyes wide as his jaw dropped. After a while, he simply said, "You just cursed. I didn't think you knew how to curse."

"How did you know?"

"Grew up in a bar. How could I not?"

"There we go. Grew up with my Father." _He just hasn't gotten mad enough yet._

"...Oh."

"Yeah." I lifted my arm out of the quilt's protective wall, examining it like it was something new. "I'm not cold anymore." The shivering had stopped, and my skin looked like living tissue again.

Roy let the quilt drop, mumbling, "The wind has died down, too." He got up on his knees, awkwardly waddling backwards and spreading the quilt on the ground next to the fire. "Now we just have to keep the ground from sucking all that warmth away." He crawled onto the quilt and lay back, his hands behind his head and his eyes turned skyward.

I stared at him, not knowing what to do next. There was space on the quilt for me, and I didn't want to leave him all alone out here again, but I wasn't sure... _Is it okay for friends to be this close all the time? Is it ever okay?_ I watched his eyes turn lazily towards me, his face growing more relaxed by the second. "You staying, or do you not want your father to know you were out here? Either way, I understand."

My eyes narrowed, and I stood up sharply, practically marching over to the quilt and plunking myself down right next to him. "Father can think whatever he wants. You lit that fire, and we both know it. Besides, he's never awake before me. Not once. I'll be awake and inside before he ever knows a thing." _Who cares about okay? I'm with my friend. I'm doing what **I** want to, not what Father makes me do. I...I can be my **own** boss just this once!_

Roy chuckled, and I looked at his smirking face before lying down beside him and elbowing him in the ribs. He winced, and I realized I may have hit him a bit harder than I meant to. "I've still had worse nights," he muttered, and continued to stare at the sky.

After a while, as I was about to fall asleep, he suddenly spoke. "I love the stars. The whole night sky, it's so inspiring."

I rolled my tired body onto its side, watching his face. "It's so enormous," he continued, "that nobody's ever been able to get a grip on just how big it really is. Think about how many people must look at the night sky and think, 'Wow. I'm small.' Well, I don't. I think that there's just as much of us that the sky can't see, and I know we're on even footing. It kinda makes me happy."

I smiled, still wavering between awareness and sleep. "That's nice. That's a nice way to think of it." I laughed idly to myself as my eyes closed themselves. "You can't see me, sky. You can't see who I really am."

As I drifted off to sleep, I swore I heard Roy whisper, "I think I'm starting to."

* * *

 _ **So what did you think? Leave a comment below letting us know your thoughts!**_

 _ **Until next time!**_

 _ **~warehouseluver13~**_


	4. Chapter 4

**_Ahhhh! We're SO sorry for the wait! I had finals to deal with in December, had to work at my job in January (during winter break) before heading back to school, only for the second semester to kick off! (Well, all of those things, plus today I just remembered that I forgot to upload over break!) Please read and review!_**

 ** _WARNING: Child abuse occurs in this chapter._**

 _ **A/N: Italics are Riza's thoughts.**_

 ** _Disclaimer: We do not own Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang, Fullmetal Alchemist, or FMA: Brotherhood. They belong to their respective owners._**

 ** _~warehouseluver13~_**

* * *

"Riza." I felt a tug on my arm, and stirred only to roll over onto my side, annoyed.

"Don't worry, I'll wake up. It's fine," I mumbled.

A sharper tug pulled me from my hazy sleep. "Riza, wake up. You overslept."

I bolted upright, and looked up to find Father staring at me with disapproval. I scrambled to my feet and hastily made my way back into the house. "I'm sorry, Father. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes." Father fell into step behind me, and I almost tripped over the threshold to the house in my hurry. Grabbing a frying pan and some eggs, I immediately set to work, hoping I could salvage the wreck this morning was turning out to be. As I turned on the stove, a question popped into my head: _Why didn't I wake up?_ Before I could give it any further thought, I heard something small clatter against the table.

I was suddenly very aware of Father's presence almost directly behind me. I turned around slowly, my shadow seeming to stretch out to his feet in apology for some unnamed transgression. I saw what he had placed on the table, and a cold shudder rushed through me as I took in his stony expression.

 _He found the matchbox._

I could feel myself start to cringe, heard my voice shake as I muttered, "F-father, it's not...I swear...he lit the fire himself." His shoulders heaved upwards as he stood taller, his eyes boring into me like red-hot needles.

"And I'm sure he did," he growled, "once you had provided this expedient alternative to his honest training!" I backed up, trying to get some distance between myself and him. I bumped into something, and steadied myself with my hand, only to yelp in pain as the hot stovetop burned me. I lurched forward out of reflex, and he caught me by the arms. "You surprise me, girl, even after all this time. You've never bothered helping any of my other lazy apprentices cheat, so this one must have done something especially ingratiating to earn your so sought-after attention. Perhaps his smart tongue has not only made you a liar and a slugabed, but has taken your purity as well? Is that it?!"

His face reddened until it was almost purple, and I could see individual veins standing out on his forehead. It was terrifying, just as horrible now as it had been when I was only thirteen. I struggled, kicking at his shins to try and get away, but he stepped on my feet in retaliation. "You're not making a very good case for yourself, girl. What's the matter? Can't bear to address your father with the putrid liar's tongue you've grown? Can't speak for fear of revealing the same disrespect he so brazenly displayed? You're pathetic."

"F-father, please! I swear, he used the gloves! He use-" A heavy-handed smack sent me sprawling to the ground, my head slamming into the iron stove on the way down. I curled into a protective ball, shielding my aching head with my hands. Even with my eyes shut to slits, I could see flying sparks exploding in what little vision I retained. My breath came out in panicked whines, and I heard Father snort in disgust.

"Defiance will not be tolerated from either you, or my disruptive apprentice. You've disappointed me for the last time, girl. I showed you mercy by letting you go this quickly. Be thankful and return to your new infatuation, little slut."

I rocked back and forth, waiting for him to strike me once more, but... nothing happened. I cracked an eye open, blinking away the blurry black and white sparks in my vision. I vaguely saw Father stomping away, and heard the study door slam shut. I tried to stand, but I couldn't stop shaking. My head hurt too much, and I felt nauseous when I tried again. I placed my hands firmly underneath me, stemming a cry of pain as I put pressure on my swelling burn, and eventually succeeded in rolling my body into a half-crawl as I tried to get to the bathroom. _The emergency kit. I have to get the emergency kit and clean up._ Whatever happened, I didn't want Roy to know. It would only make him madder at Father, and if Roy confronted him again... _I won't let Roy get hurt or killed because of me!_

I managed to haul myself upright by the time I reached the stairs, the dizziness from my head only causing me to stumble on the way up once or twice. I felt a slight oozing warmth at the back of my head. _I'm bleeding. One more thing to hide…_ Staggering in front of the mirror, I surveyed the disheveled mess I had become. Turning my head, I saw the faint red stain slowly spreading through my short blond hair. _First things first, then._ Grabbing the emergency kit I had assembled over the years from its place in the cupboard under the sink, I took out a large wad of gauze and wet it under the faucet, holding the soggy cloth to my pounding head.

Once I was sure there was no blood left in my hair, I used the cold, wet gauze to soothe the burn on my left hand as my right attended to the stinging red mark Father's slap had left on my face. A careful application of makeup hid the unsightly welt from view, and I finally turned my attention to the two arcing burns I had gotten from the coil of the stovetop. I slowly put on a large dab of medicinal ointment, wincing as the sticky salve began working at the irritated skin. Eventually, the tingling died down, and I added a few more of the gauze pads to keep it protected before wrapping a few layers of bandages firmly around my palm. I glanced at the bruises that were already showing themselves on my upper arms, deciding that the best way to hide them would be with clothes.

I made my way to my room, opening my closet and singling out my mid-length dresses after much deliberation. A large change in any aspect of my appearance would be a potential warning to Roy, so it had to be short sleeved...but I could wear something over it, a sweater or cardigan. I finally chose a purple one with a thin flowery pattern in white, layering a white cardigan over it to cover my sore arms.

After painfully pulling on the cardigan, I quickly checked my appearance once more in my dresser mirror before slowly making my way downstairs. Someone had to make breakfast, after all. I didn't want Roy to get upset about that, either.

The eggs were starting to burn at the edges, and I quickly pulled them off the stove and threw them into the garbage, being sure to hide them with a tattered, ripped dishcloth that I had been meaning to get rid of for weeks now. I began cracking more eggs, hoping Father wouldn't come back out to demand anything else of me. _One fight was more than enough conflict for one day_.

I heard the back door creak open, and Roy quietly made his way into the kitchen. "G'morn'n, Riza. How's breakfast coming along?" He sat down at the table, the same chair as yesterday, and yawned just like he did then, as if nothing had changed. The only difference was a grunt of discomfort as his back popped. "Argh. Ugh, the ground wasn't too soft last night, huh?"

I had to keep the conversation going, no matter what. The more he talked, the less he would pay attention to how I looked. I tried to put the usual life in my voice as I said, "I thought you'd had worse nights."

I could almost feel his smile as he chuckled. "Never said I liked 'em." He grew silent for a stretch before mumbling, "You left the matchbox on the table."

I blinked, trying to think of something, anything to say besides the truth. "The stove wouldn't start by itself. I had to light the gas with the matches." I turned my head slightly, to see his face. He shook his head, mumbling to himself about unreliable old appliances.

I plated the eggs, still sizzling from the pan, and turned to give him his food. I walked just slightly behind him, and he asked "Did your dad eat anything yet?" I froze in place, just for a second, as I tried to keep calm despite the horror I felt at imagining what would happen if I missed father's breakfast too. ' _You've disappointed me for the last time, girl.'_ His words echoed in my head, and I continued walking, giving Roy a curt shake of my head in reply. I kept my eyes open despite the ache that still fogged my thoughts, and slipped quietly into Father's study just long enough to put the plate on a desk he wasn't using.

I walked out into the kitchen as quickly as possible, putting my hands carefully behind my back and wrapping my normal hand over the burned one so that the bandages were hidden. Passing behind Roy again, I said, "Yours is next." He nodded, humming an odd little tune to himself as I began preparing his meal.

"You know," he drawled, "you don't have to restrict yourself to eggs. With the kinds of things you've got in the pantry, you might be able to make a lot more than a simple sunny-side-up. I can show you, if you want. I learned a thing or two about cooking when I was a kid." I shrugged, not wanting to affirm or deny his offer. Right now, all I had to do was make eggs and hide the burn. If I could do that for just a little longer, I might be able to think of some excuse to go back to my room…like that Xingese story in the book. I still didn't know how it ended.

After a few minutes, the eggs were done, and I got a plate for them, too. Handing them to Roy, I quickly retreated, but I saw his eyes shift from the plate I had put down to the wrappings on my palm…

"What's wrong with your hand?" he softly asked, all traces of fatigue evaporating. I gave him a dismissive wave, muttering under my breath, but he reached out and lightly touched his fingers to mine. I stopped, holding my breath. "Riza… What happened to you?"

I reached over, brushing his hand away as I tried to reassure him. "I tripped a little, and burned my hand on the stove by accident. It's nothing, really. I'm just fine." I repeated the words to myself, hoping they would calm the whirling fear I still held in my mind. _You're just fine, Riza. It's nothing._

His eyes narrowed briefly, and he frowned, but said nothing. His face quickly returned to normal, and he continued to eat his breakfast. I took a slice of bread and used the remaining butter from the pan to toast it, claiming it as my own meal. His mild frown returned for an instant, but he shrugged after I quickly admonished him. "I'm just not that hungry this morning," I stated matter-of-factly, and clamped my teeth firmly down onto the toast as we ate in silence.

 ***EOHH***

I sighed as I finished making Roy's lunch. The midsummer sun shone through the window. _I can't believe that it's been a month and Roy is still here. To be honest, I'm impressed. It feels like it was only yesterday when I thought he would leave before the end of his first week._ Starting to make a simple meat and cheese sandwich for myself, I couldn't help but think of Roy that night he was left out of the house. The ridiculous expression on his face when he tried to speak with his mouth completely stuffed with cold poultry… " _e's gud shekn."_ I smiled at the corner of my mouth. _He's just so unusual. Not really unpredictable, but definitely… new, somehow. He's different from everyone else._

I turned to see the shekn-lover himself come down the stairs, smiling broadly. "Hey, Riza, watch this one. I've gotten even better at my fine control!"

"Maybe we should go outside…" I tried to disguise the worry in my voice as best I could, but some of it must have leaked through. Roy's shoulders sagged.

"Come on, Riza. It's not funny anymore. I only burned my shirt that one time, and you know it!"

"And what else did you burn besides the shirt? Seriously, Roy, you can't blame me for the inaccuracy of the gloves." _That would be entirely my Father's fault._

Roy's face turned slightly red, and he stuttered a little. "A-alright, fine. But those drapes were only hiding the cracks in the window anyway."

"And now they're plainly obvious when the early morning sun makes rainbows on your wall. Glass fractures aren't pretty, Roy."

"But the rainbows are nice! It's a chance to study the science of light!"

I rolled my eyes in exasperation. "Don't you already know enough about it?"

"You can never know too much about things."

"I disrespectfully disagree. I know more about spiders than I ever wanted to thanks to that manual."

"Then why did you read it in the first place?" His voice got softer, and I could see a concerned frown forming on his face.

I loudly set his lunch in front of him, my eyebrows furrowing. "It'll get cold," I muttered angrily. Roy's frown deepened, but he turned his gaze quickly from me to the food.

"I could toast it later," he replied quietly, but started eating nonetheless.

I looked out the window in front of the sink, watching the trees swaying in the wind. "As long as you don't set any more curtains ablaze," I remarked snidely.

"That was uncalled for. I really improved recently. I think I should at least be able to toast a cold lunch."

"I think you should eat. You might have to get back to the Ash Castle soon."

Roy's face broke into a confident grin, and he smugly took a bite of his food. "Acshully, f'nny thing. He shaid I could take th' day off. Pretty weird if you ashk me, sinsh 'es shuch a hardassh."

 _Wait. He's starting to ease up already? What could be… oh. It's mid-July._

 _Almost the anniversary of her death._ "Well, I guess I can't say it's too surprising to me."

Roy's jaw stops munching, and his eyes narrow. He looks at me with a sideways glance. "Wha's sho norml 'bout it?"

I shrugged, pushed my own plate to the side as I sat down next to him. I wasn't feeling particularly hungry anymore. "He always… withdraws a little this time of year. My Mother died a couple weeks from today, five years ago. He… he drinks. To forget."

"Does he get...any more aggressive? Drinking isn't usually good for the temperament." Roy's eyes hardened as he put down his fork. I could feel his gaze scanning my face, and I turned my head, looking back out the window.

"He's upset, Roy, not a monster." My fist tightened, and I shook my head. "It's not that kind of drinking."

Roy slightly arched an eyebrow, but chose not to speak and began to attack his lunch yet again.

I reluctantly picked up my sandwich and took a small bite of it, to keep up appearances. _The trees look nice today. The wind isn't that strong; it'd be a good climbing day today, if I'm right._

Roy's voice echoed emptily through my thoughts, and I lazily mumbled, "Hmm?"

"I asked you, what was so interesting about the trees? You're just kinda staring at them."

"I was just thinking that today would be a good day for climbing. That's all, really."

I looked back to him, and his eyes were wider than I'd ever seen them. "You...you climb trees? _Those_ trees?! They're so huge!"

I raised my eyebrows, feeling a bit baffled. I glanced at the trees, as tall as they had always been. I looked at Roy again, his jaw gaping open as he looked up and down the far-off trees in the forest. "But they're just trees, Roy. They've been tall for as long as I can remember, and I've been climbing in them since I was a little girl. It's really no big deal…"

He seemed to be recalculating something in his head. His gaze slowly shifted back and forth, from my face to the trees. He blinked a few times, shut his mouth, and managed to ask, "Do you use any special tools or equipment or anything?"

"Just this," I gestured to my plain-looking dress, and Roy blinked again. Hard.

"You climb those trees in dresses? Isn't it hard?"

I frowned. "Well, it's the only way I've ever done it, so I don't know." I replied coldly. "Since I don't have any other choice in my attire, I've learned to deal with it."

"Can you teach it?"

"What? Teach what?"

"Tree climbing. I've never done it before; no good trees in Central."

Now it was my turn to go wide-eyed. "You came _here_ all the way from _Central City?!_ "

"Well, yeah. I said I grew up in a tavern, right?"

"Taverns don't automatically mean cities, Roy! The village down the river has one!"

He shrugged, muttering, "Well, how am I supposed to know that? I've only been here a month or so!"

"Ugh, I don't understand what could possibly be more irritating right now, the fact that you can't imagine taverns outside of cities or the fact that you've never climbed a damn tree! It's literally all kids do for fun here, as far as I can tell."

Roy crossed his arms in front of his chest, scowling. "I didn't have that option. It's not like three-story buildings make good climbing surfaces for a little kid. I had to make up my own entertainment." He took a bite of his food and continued. "I watched people at the bar, shtudied people's habitsh and behavior. Got pretty good at reading lipsh, too." He chuckled suddenly, swallowing his food in a gulp. "That lead to some interesting insights," he said mysteriously.

I watch his face, and finally decide, "I guess it couldn't hurt to teach you how to climb."

He smiled brightly. "Great! So, what do you want me to teach you?"

I blinked. "What?"

He smiled wider. "Equivalent exchange. If you do something fun for me, it's only fair that I teach you something, too. So what do you want to learn?"

I sighed heavily. "Alchemists…" A thought occurred to me, and I held up a finger in front of his face to get him to stop making that goofy grin. "You said you could teach me how to cook better. I _might_ like that."

He smirked, the corner of his mouth lifting until his nose wrinkled just a bit. It had become such a familiar expression to me; he used it a lot more often than was probably appropriate.

"You should probably eat your food, Riza. Climbing trees must be hard work."

"It might be hard for you, Roy. I've been climbing for years, so I wouldn't necessarily call it hard work," I replied. I still wasn't too thrilled about having to cope with Father drinking for the next few weeks. _He's unhelpful enough sober._

I watched Roy wolf down the rest of his lunch. It seemed as if he was in a hurry to go somewhere, or do something. "Alright. How about now?" he asked.

Quietly picking at my own simple sandwich, I shrugged. "If you want to, then why not?" I stood up, going upstairs to grab my coat from my room. When I came back down, he had wrapped my sandwich in wax paper.

His face almost totally blank, he handed me the bundle. "Don't leave it behind. I don't want my tree-climbing teacher to starve herself or anything." The look in his eyes told me he was dead serious, and I couldn't help smiling just a little. _He's actually… concerned about me. The last person I remember that was concerned about me for something as small as this was my Mother._

"Thanks." I carefully reached out for the wrapped sandwich, making sure to grab the end that Roy wasn't holding, and put it in my coat pocket. Roy's smile flashed briefly from his face before he ran excitedly out the back door like a little boy.

"Come on, Riza! I'll need you to be there, you know!" He sounded like a child, too, so giddy and energetic. I rolled my eyes. _And to think that he's learning to be a master of flame alchemy_ … _What happened to him?_ Chuckling softly to myself, I followed as fast as I could, trying to get ahead of him before he got lost in the woods.

* * *

 _ **Thoughts? Are you guys excited to see Riza teach Roy how to climb a tree? Leave a comment below to let us know!**_

 _ **Also, please check out DarksteelRebelhawk's stories on Wattpad! They're amazing!**_

 _ **~warehouseluver13~**_


	5. Chapter 5

**_Hello Everyone! Here's the next chapter! Please read, review and enjoy!_**

 ** _Disclaimer: We do not own Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang, Fullmetal Alchemist, or FMA: Brotherhood. They belong to their respective owners._**

 ** _Author's Note: Italics are Riza's thoughts._**

 ** _~warehouseluver13~_**

* * *

"Which tree should we climb first?" Roy asked, as he quickly bounced from examining one tree to another, trying to find a good one to attempt to climb.

I shook my head, remembering that he didn't really know that some trees were easier to climb than others. I could see the look of vague confusion he wore while trying to find a way to scale a birch tree that only had branches after the first ten feet. "Maybe if we could find handholds in the trunk? Like little holes or something?" he mumbled to himself.

"It's better to find a tree that has branches lower on the trunk, Roy," I advised, after watching him struggle for a few minutes. I walked over to an old beech tree that was close by. Its branches were closer to the ground, which made it a perfect candidate for climbing. "Like this one," I declared.

He stopped mid-stride, holding one leg in the air as he stared at the tree I had chosen. "Oh. Yeah, I guess that would work." He walked over quickly as my eyebrow rose up my forehead, and I shook my head as he stopped next to me. _The novice has the nerve to question my judgement when he specifically asked me to teach him… no wonder Father's been cracking down on him until now. I almost empathize._

"The first thing about tree climbing," I say sharply, focusing his attention as I take off my shoes, "is stability. If you can't maintain stability while you're climbing, you'll fall right away. So, I want you to watch me climb up a little ways, and try to figure out what I'm doing to maintain my balance. Sounds simple enough, right? You being a master analyzer of behavior and all, I figure it'll be right up your alley."

Roy's face stiffened, and I saw his mouth twitch at one corner. In an excessively calm voice, he said, "Whenever you're ready, Riza-sensei." I couldn't help but smile at that. _Now I'm a sensei, huh? I could live with that._

I carefully scaled the tree, bringing myself up onto the first branch by using my feet to push against the rough trunk. "Notice how the trunk supported my weight when I pressed on it. This is useful when hanging, but don't do it when you're trying to climb from one branch to another. Staying close to the trunk is important; the farther away you are from the center of the tree, the faster you'll lose balance."

I climb continuously as I say this, worming my way among the branches until I reached one thick enough to stand on. I turned to look down at him, and noticed that he was still at the bottom of the tree, not even attempting to follow my lead. "Roy," I called down, "are you getting all this? If you aren't going to follow me, you should at least pay close attention to what I say and do."

He gave a little start, and said awkwardly, "Oh, yeah. Yeah, I am. Don't worry." His hand reached up to scratch at the back of his neck, and he hesitated. "So, should I follow you now?"

"If you're comfortable with the idea, sure. Try to climb as close as you can to where I am." At my current height, which I estimated to be about twenty feet or so in the air, he wouldn't be able to reach me the first time he tried, but there was still a definite possibility of progress. He awkwardly hauled himself up to the first branch, and as he progressed upward by what seemed like inches at a time, I quickly knew just how little he had actually paid attention to.

He had taken my advice far too literally, and was ignoring the branches altogether except to use them as footholds and handholds in order to climb directly up the trunk. I shook my head in exasperation, asking, "Did you really listen, Roy? At all?"

He leaned back, straining to look up at me. His face turned slightly red, then went pale as a ghost as his eyes went wide. He yelled at the top of his lungs as his hand slipped. I watched his opposite foot shift to compensate, and I winced when it, too, slipped off the rounded branch. Time seemed to slow down as I saw Roy fall down the trunk, his hands scrabbling uselessly against the bark. He slid a few feet before falling off the trunk and onto a branch that had been patiently waiting for him to land on it with all his weight. It caught him directly between the legs.

I didn't know whether to shout in distress or howl with laughter. His face twisted into a nearly unbelievable mask of pain and embarrassment, and he quickly collapsed forward to cling to the attacking tree limb with all his might, groaning and whining all the while. He was beet red from the neck up, and I could hear him trying not to scream. Suppressing the slight giggles that escaped from my gritted teeth, I quickly climbed down to sit on the branch next to his. "R-roy," I asked through my small grin, "are you hurt too badly? Can you move?"

"Don' think so," he wheezed, his voice made much higher by the pain he was experiencing. "Hurts to be alive right now...I'll get back to you." He shook his head, grimacing as his arms and legs trembled. I held a hand over my mouth, trying not to laugh as I worried about him falling off the branch. _What if he moves wrong and falls all the way to the ground without preparing first? It'd be awful…_

"You know, I gave you basic instructions," I scolded, "and you still managed to hurt yourself this badly...Are you sure you got everything? There seemed to be a big gap between what I told you to do and what you actually did."

Roy shuddered, and his grip slipped a little. He wrapped his arms a little tighter around the branch, trying not to slide anywhere. "I was paying attention!" He regained his grip, still wincing when he moved his legs too much. I shook my head, realizing the truth that he wouldn't want to hear.

"Roy, you're actually going to have to let go soon." He stared at me, incredulity and fear spreading across his face as he slowly looked down at the ground. He shook his head, and I nodded in response. "You can't actually move up or down anymore unless you drop. Just tumble with it once you hit the ground and you should be okay."

"Should be? Should be?! Riza, you do realize that I'm still your father's apprentice, which means I kinda need to have all four limbs intact! I'm not just gonna drop off this tree and break my legs because you think I _should_ be okay!"

I rolled my eyes. "Of course you won't break your legs Roy. You'll just be a bit sore tomorrow from the fall. Don't worry, the worst you'll get is a twisted ankle." I watched as Roy clung to the branch even tighter than before.

"If I hurt my ankle, I'll have a limp, and I'll be late to all my lessons! He's already gotten mad at me a few times without any provocation at all. What'll happen if he actually _has_ a reason?!"

I tried to conceal my alarm at his statement. _Already gotten mad? For no reason? Father always has a reason. He's a scientist. His logic may not always make sense, but it's always there...could it be that he's punishing Roy for being close to me?_ I shook my head, showing only an expression of mild exasperation. "I started doing this when I was barely getting to be eight years old. I fell loads of times, and I still kept climbing. You're being whiny and ridiculous. Just drop off the branch carefully and tuck your legs once you hit the ground. You'll roll forward, and you won't be hurt."

As soon as the word 'whiny' left my lips, I saw Roy freeze up. I could almost feel his tension as I finished speaking, and he slowly shimmied into a hanging position, mumbling to himself. I caught a few words out of the breathy jumble. "...already have _one_ overbearing teacher… this _bossy_ when you were eight, too?"

" _What_ did you say?" I asked calmly, waiting for him to reevaluate his word choice.

"I was just wondering if you were always this bossy, or if it's just my special privilege," he reiterated grumpily as he let his legs go, dangling from the branch by his hands alone.

I narrowed my eyes angrily. "Do you always spew bullshit, or is that just for _my_ privilege?"

I heard a little snarl build in his throat, and he snapped, "Of course it is. The tree princess deserves no less than the best bullshit I can offer!"

I bristled, my face heating up like the stove I had made his lousy breakfast on this morning. _Tree princess? You'll pay for_ _ **that**_ _, asshole._ I leaned forward, smiling cruelly as I placed one hand on the branch he was hanging from. His eyes widened as my other hand pried up his right index finger. "As the _tree princess_ , I give you a royal decree that you're going to fall off this branch whether you like it or not." I watched the sweat bead up on his face as I slowly lift his middle finger along with the other one.

"W-wait a minute! Hold on just a second, that's not funny! Hey, c-cut it out already!" I smiled wider as I lifted yet another of his trembling fingers. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry for calling you bossy! I'm sorry, just stop it! Please!"

"Drop, and I won't have to make you drop. It's simple. Now be a good royal alchemist and stop wimping out!"

He closed his eyes, held his breath, and let go of the branch. The three fingers I had pried up slipped out of my grasp, and he fell to the ground. His legs bent as his body continued downward, and he landed on his backside, releasing a blistering string of expletives too fast for me to track.

I sighed, explaining his mistake once he was done cursing. "You didn't roll, Roy. You were supposed to roll forward once you bent your legs to compensate for the rest of the fall."

Roy groaned. "Thanks for the warning, Riza."

"You weren't listening, Roy. Again."

"Can we just go back? I've had enough tree climbing lessons for one day."

I gracefully swung down, landing hard on my feet and tumbling to a safe stop. Standing up with ease, I dusted the grass off my dress as Roy stared; his efforts to get up had been thwarted by his rather minor injuries. "Need any help?" I asked graciously, a hint of my earlier smile reappearing.

"I'm fine," he grunted, struggling awkwardly to his feet.

We walked in silence, his obvious limp not stopping him from trying to outpace me, though it did certainly make him fail to. "Do you want to try again tomorrow?" I finally asked.

"...Yes."

 ***EOHH***

I grabbed a cold compress from the freezer, hefting the chilly bag of cloth and rubber and checking that it was the same temperature all the way through before handing it to Roy. He sat down at the table, placing the bag firmly between his legs and wincing.

"Aren't you hurt anyplace else?" I asked, a bit confused.

"Yeah, but this hurts more, so it gets top priority."

"I guess that works, but it's not _that_ bad, is it?"

Roy gave me the most withering glare I had ever seen cross his face, and I blinked. He continued the stare of utter disbelief, finally closing his eyes and shaking his head. "You...you don't have a clue, do you? You don't understand…" He sighed heavily as I raised my eyebrows. "Riza," he groaned, "this is literally the most pain I have ever been in. The only reason I was even able to talk to you back on the tree was because I was scared enough to ignore it…"

I nodded my head slowly, resolving to not question it any further. _For all their bluff and bluster, men are fragile, aren't they?_ I thought about Father threatening me, and almost smiled to myself. _I should have tried that tactic a long time ago, huh?_

"You know," Roy mumbled, breaking me out of the…interesting scenario I had been imagining, "I do still owe you a cooking lesson."

I glanced at his face, still marked by the remnants of apparent pain and suffering, and suggested, "How about you rest first?"

"It's fine. I can...sorta do things. If they're nearby." He looked at the pantry, sitting an intimidating ten feet away. "I might need you to grab stuff for me, though."

I sighed. _He's not about to stop and rest, is he?_ "What do you need?"

His eyes looked up and to the right, obviously trying to remember something. "Okay, so to start off with something easy...let's do a stir-fry."

I frowned. _What? ...What the hell is a stir-fry supposed to be?_

"It's basically a bunch of meat and vegetables thrown in a pan with rice and sauce. It's simple and surprisingly nutritious. It's traditionally a Xingese thing."

My mouth hung slightly open, and I quickly shut it again as I realized I had asked that question aloud by mistake. Shrugging, I decided to follow it up. "Where did you learn Xingese cooking?"

Roy shook his head, muttering to himself. I couldn't quite understand what he was saying, so I went to the pantry and asked, "Again, what do you need?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, right. Well, you still have chicken, right? We'll need that. Hot pepper powder, some rice, obviously, and for the sautée… green onions, some cooking wine, and some garlic." He nodded, his face setting into a confident smile. "That should do," he said, and his voice took on a note of finality, like there was no possible dispute to his statement.

"Of course. That sounds _so_ simple. How do you plan to teach me how to cook this when you can't stand up on your own?" His face fell, and he went back to that pensive stare, aimed at the table in front of him where I started piling the items he had requested.

"I could tell you what to do, and you could be the one cooking it. Just do what I tell you with the ingredients, and it'll be golden. Don't worry, you'll do fine."

I shook my head. "If you give directions as well as you take them, this might not go as well as you think."

"If you follow directions _half_ as well as I give them, we'll be all set. Now, we still need to do the prep. This, I can help you with directly." He grabbed the ingredients and separated them into two distinct piles. "We'll need knives and cutting boards."

I set the necessary utilities in front of him and sat next to him as he started chopping at the garlic, his hands moving faster than I could have possibly expected.

As we worked, he started talking about the first time he made the dish. "It was when I was about...twelve, I think? I was dead set on proving that I could help out in the kitchen instead of being delegated to busboy duties. Madam Christmas was out front tending bar, and…"

"Is that the woman who raised you?"

"Oh, yeah. She's the one who found me. It's her place, and she doesn't let anybody forget it. Chris Mustang is one of the most intimidating women I know, but I can't deny I sorta love her to death." He smiled, a long, easy grin that seemed full of happy memories. "Anyway, she was tending bar, and the head cook was letting me try to fill an order for the special of the day. He was a no-nonsense sort of guy, but I was hard to say no to back then."

I gave a small snort of laughter, imagining a younger Roy pleading with a hard-nosed, bearded old grump in a chef's hat. Maybe with a peg leg… "Oh, really?" I muttered, my eyebrow climbing up my forehead. "You? Being actually persuasive?" Little Roy's wide, childlike eyes, begging for _just one chance_ , suddenly seemed funny. "I've only seen your ever-impressive charm work one time."

His eyes narrowed, but he continued his story as if he hadn't heard me. "I got everything perfect as far as the ingredients. The right proportions, the right flavors, it would have been great. But I misjudged the amount of cooking wine I needed. I ended up setting the whole thing on fire halfway through cooking it after adding too much." He set the newly chopped onion shoot aside and handed me the other one while he peeled and diced the garlic.

I giggled. "So that's why you like flame alchemy so much."

He rolled his eyes, his hands moving independently of his gaze as I struggled to make clean cuts in the springy shoot. "Sure, Riza. I chose this object of study because I set food on fire when I was a kid. It's not like I'm a _pyromaniac_."

"He doth protest too much!" I shouted, smiling slyly. "You sneaky arsonist, you."

"Just quit it and keep chopping," he grumbled irritably.

"Sure thing, you betcha." I continued cutting the springy onion shoot, no easy task. _I think this knife needs sharpening..._ "So, what do we do next?"

"We...hmm, how do I explain this? Certain ingredients should be cooked before the others to provide the base flavor. This would be the onions and the garlic; they go very well together. Once those are cooked through, you put in the meat and everything else."

I nodded. "That seems simple enough, I guess." Getting out a fairly deep pan from the cupboards, I took Roy's onion shoot and the garlic, dropping them carefully into the pan. I picked up the bottle of cooking wine, the word 'marsala' printed across the label. "What does that mean?" I asked, holding the bottle out to my side and showing Roy the print.

"It's just the name of the wine. Nothing special. Marsala is just a type of cooking wine. Really versatile."

"Oh. Okay." I cautiously opened the bottle, looking into the narrow mouth. The marsala was red, and it smelled almost sweet; almost, but not quite. It was more… pungent, I guess, than anything, and I poured a small pool of the cooking wine into the pan, stopping when the bottle produced a quiet, hollow 'glub' sound. _Wait! What if that's too much?! Well… Roy can't exactly get up to check, so I guess I'll have to hope for the best._

I turned the stove on, slowly bringing the dial up to...what? "What temperature should it be?"

"Medium heat," Roy calls out idly.

I brought the dial back down from High, glad I had remembered to ask. _I've got no desire to become an arsonist._ "Okay, so then… we let it cook through?" I glanced back at a nodding Roy.

"Until the onion shoot and garlic chunks are mostly transparent."

"Alright, then." I listened to the subtle hiss of the food in the pan, a jumble of green and white simmering in a pool of orange-red.

"So… I've told you about my adopted mother. Is there anything about your mom you're comfortable with sharing?"

"Well… uhm…" I faltered, unsure of what to tell him. _I already told him a lot, when he followed me to Mother's water garden._ "Her… her name was Elizabeth. Elizabeth Grumman, before she married my Father." I thought of an old story Mother had told me once, and laughed to myself.

"What's so funny?" Roy asked, and I couldn't help but blush a little. _I have to tell him now, don't I? Shit… here goes nothing._

"It's, ah, it's just a story she told me once, I-I don't even know if it's actually _true_ or not…" Roy raised his eyebrows as my blush spread a little farther across my face. "Oh, fine. All right, I'll tell you, you jerk." He smiled, his face just _oozing_ charm and false innocence.

"When I was a baby, my parents had actually named me Lisa, in honor of Mother. But when they tried to teach me my name, I… I always pronounced it wrong. By the time we went to get my birth certificate registered, my Mother decided to change it officially. So… that's why my name is Riza now…"

Roy clamped his hand firmly over his mouth, but I could hear the faint huffs of hidden laughter escaping. I watched in dismay as he gave up and openly chortled about it, and I stomped my foot, hissing, "Stop it, you asshole! It's not something to laugh about!" I didn't care that I had been laughing just a few seconds ago. It was _different_ coming from him, somehow.

Still giggling, he waved his arms in front of him, saying, "No, no, nonono, it's cute! I love it! It's the most unique, wonderful twist I've ever seen on a name." He calmed down, his smile extending all the way to his shining eyes. " _Widdle Wiza_."

I fumed silently as he burst out laughing all over again at his bad joke. "Shut up," I growled, reaching for the wooden spoon I had picked out to stir the...well, the stir-fry. Brandishing it like a weapon, I glared at him angrily. "Stop making fun of me!" I could feel a tear building in my eye. I blinked it back forcefully, not wanting to show weakness.

Roy suddenly stiffened, sitting bolt upright and sniffing the air anxiously. "Hey, Riza? How much of that marsala did you use?"

My spoon lowered slightly and I blinked nervously. "Um… one 'glub'?"

He sighed, his hand rising to meet his dropping forehead. "It's supposed to cover the whole bottom of the pan… The stir-fry is starting to burn."

"What?!" I whirled around, looking at the rapidly browning vegetables hissing and spitting on the nearly dry pan. _Oh great. I made the opposite mistake!_

Roy hobbled up behind me, and I heard him mumble, "Maybe eggs are more your style for now anyway…"

"What was that?" I asked menacingly, spoon jabbing into his chest as I stared him down.

He opened his mouth to defend himself.

" _Riizaa!_ "

My blood ran cold, and I dropped the long wooden spoon in fright as my head snapped toward the door of my Father's study. An oddly gentle hand clasped my shoulder, and I heard Roy softly ask, "Are you okay? Did he startle you?"

I shrugged him off, muttering, "Fine. Fix the food. I'll…" I nudged my thumb toward the door before darting toward the one place I really, truly didn't want to go.

* * *

 _ **Did you like this chapter? Leave a comment below letting us know your thoughts!**_

 _ **~warehouseluver13~**_


	6. Chapter 6

**_Hello Everyone! Here's the next installment! Please read, review and enjoy!_**

 _ **A/N: Italics are Riza's thoughts.**_

 _ **WARNING: Most likely, a lot of fluff in this chapter. You have been warned. ;)**_

 ** _Disclaimer: We do not own Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang, Fullmetal Alchemist, or FMA: Brotherhood. They belong to their respective owners._**

 ** _~warehouseluver13~_**

* * *

I stepped out of my Father's study, trying to hide my shuddering breaths from Roy, who was still just nearby in the kitchen. A warm, soothing smell wafted toward me, and I heard Roy humming as he spooned something into bowls.

I slowly walked forward, steeling my expression against the stress and anxiety I still felt. _"I'm tired of your bumbling, girl. You're useless… the most incompetent, ungrateful…."_ The sting of my drunken Father's abrasive words still chafed at my mind, sounding in my ears as if he was still slurring his abuse at me.

"Dinner's served!" Roy's voice snapped me out of the mental echo chamber. His bright smile hovered above a steaming bowl of rice, meat, and vegetables. "I saved the stir-fry for you."

My eyes widened slightly, and I stared at the bowl of food in surprise. "But.. But I thought…" I blinked, looking at him with a sort of apprehensive curiosity. "Didn't I screw it up?"

His smile lessened as he looked into my eyes, searching for the source of my mood. "What? Wh… Riza, it's not that big a deal. I added some more wine and onion, and it was all better. What kind of crappy thinking is that? No, you didn't 'screw it up', you made an honest mistake." He pressed the bowl into my hands, saying, "Don't belittle yourself like that. Come on, let's enjoy the meal."

I followed him to the table, seeing two other full bowls of stir-fry perched on the countertop. He grabbed one, stuck a fork in it, and slid it across the table to his usual seat. I reach out a hand, trying to keep it from falling off the edge of the particularly smooth table. _That is not the sort of thing normal people do on tables like this!_ Just before my fingers would have brushed against it, the bowl slid smoothly to a placid halt.

I looked at Roy in astonishment. He simply shrugged, saying, "Just a neat little trick I picked up." Roy then deftly picked up the other bowl and strolled confidently into Father's study, opening the door just long enough to place the food on the unused desk surface. He walked casually back over to his chair and plunked himself into it, sighing with relief as he repositioned the ice pack. "Now, then. How did we do?"

His fork plunged into the white clay bowl, returning into view full of rice and vegetables. In one smooth motion, he ate every speck of food off the fork at once and put the utensil right back into the bowl. "Tha's purty gud. Th' smoky flavr acshully helpsh," he mumbled through his stir-fry.

 _So smooth-talking, until you put food in front of him… Dumb shekn-lover…_ I smiled shyly, and busied myself with examining my own serving. The fluffy rice and lightly browned meat and vegetables stood still, undisturbed and waiting for my fork to tear them apart… _I need to read less violent books one of these days. Those fairy tales are getting to me._

I gently poked at the foreign dish, not daring to find out what my mistake had really done to it. Roy was eating, seemingly happily, but I knew how good of an actor he was… _He may just be sparing my feelings._

"Ritha, ish gonna get cold. Ea' up."

"O-okay," I mumbled, and cautiously took a bite of the stir-fry. It… tasted good. Different, definitely, but still… surprisingly excellent. I swallowed it and quickly took another bite, glancing at Roy as he smiled through a blur of fork and falling rice.

"W-wow. I didn't think…" I stuttered once we both finished. "Wow."

Roy beamed. "We can cook."

I shook my head, chuckling despite myself. " _You_ can cook," I correct him.

I blinked as his already huge smile somehow got wider, and his shoulders got a little squarer as he nodded. "I can, can't I?" he said, and I held my head in my hand, continuing to laugh at his ego.

 _I'm probably going to regret saying that, aren't I?_

Roy's face suddenly went still, and his eyes turned to me, a twinkle of amusement dancing in them. I blushed when I realized I had spoken my thoughts aloud… again.

We continued to stare at each other in stoic silence, each determined not to break in the face of the other. Roy's eyes crinkled at the corners, my face broke into a carefree smile, and we both burst out laughing.

 ***EOHH***

"AAAAUGH! AAH, AAAAAH, AAHAHAAA!" Roy's shouts of frenzied dismay echoed around his room as he leapt wildly from his bed and danced about like a madman. "Aaahahaaagh, what the hell, Riza?!" Ice cubes fell in groups of two and three out of the back of his shirt as he continued to flail.

"It's time to climb trees, Roy," I stated calmly. "You remember that? We agreed on it yesterday."

He finished shaking the dripping lumps of ice from his back, a scowl as dark as the bags under his eyes directed at me. "I was up all night doing research for your drunk dad! I needed the sleep!"

I closed my eyes, trying not to show how angry I was at his whining. "If you did your work incrementally like a smart student, you wouldn't have to. Now get dressed and let me teach you what you wanted to learn." My voice fell into its usual disappointed monotone despite my best efforts.

"I am _tired_." He yawned, his mouth stretching wide open as his eyes half closed. "I would've been happy to climb as long as you let me nap first!"

"I did. For an hour. But I know how long your naps usually are, unlike you, it seems."

He growled, finally relenting and yanking off his soaked shirt. "Fine, just let me change."

 _What?_ The room seemed to grow exponentially warmer, and I felt a steadily rising pressure in my face. _What?!_ "I'll, just, uhm…" I motioned awkwardly to the door, my hand shaking slightly. I tried to look away, but… _surely just one more second wouldn't hurt, right?_

A fresh shirt appeared over the rippling muscles, and I blinked to see his face smugly grinning. "Hey, Riza. You sure you're ready to climb? You're looking a bit feverish." My blush, already spread across most of my face, felt like it could fry an egg. I turned on my heel, quickly marching to the door and slamming it shut behind me, shuddering as I attempted to recover my wits.

From the other side of the door, I swore I could hear Roy quietly chuckling to himself.'

 ***EOHH***

I stood in front of the same beech tree that had so horribly assaulted Roy's...sensitive area. I looked to my left, watching his stance crumple into a despairing slump. "Do we have to climb this one _again_ , Riza? Seriously?"

"Yes," I barked impatiently, "this one. Again. _Properly_ this time." Roy sighed heavily, and I rolled my eyes at him. "Come on, Roy, it's the easiest tree I could find for you. Unless you want to travel a mile upriver, you _will_ climb this one first, got it?"

He straightens his back, throwing a mock salute to me. "Yes, of course, Riza-sensei!" His salute flashed downward, still a cheesy representation of what it ought to be. _He's turned a gesture and title of respect and subservience into some sort of mockery._

"Just get up the tree and I'll figure out what else you still need to know and what tricks I need to start teaching you."

His face quirked a little. "Need?" I crossed my arms, glaring pointedly at him. His expression quickly shrunk to a sort of panic, and he cautiously approached the tree.

I almost laughed as he gazed up at its branches, beads of sweat visibly forming on his forehead. "Oh, come _on_ ," I groaned in humorous exasperation, "it's not a wild animal, it's a _tree_. Just go for it."

He grabbed the branch lowest to the ground, once again hauling himself up with a sort of swing in his arms. I nodded in approval, and he seemed to gain confidence...as he started doing exactly the same things he did yesterday.

I waited for about five branches before waving my arms in the air and shouting, "All right, this is getting ridiculous. Were you paying attention to what I was saying yesterday or weren't you?!" He looked over his shoulder at me, watching me waving my arms.

He slowly clambered his way down to the third branch in his peculiar fashion, jumping off the branch and performing what was, undeniably, a decent tuck and roll. As he dusted off his shoulders, he smiled, asking confidently, "So. How was that? Did you see it?"

My arms were once again crossed, and I shook my head slowly. "I saw it, alright. I'm not sure what it was I was seeing most of the time, but I definitely saw it."

"Hey, that roll was good! I hit the ground really smoothly this time."

My eyes started to get tired of rolling. "That's not the point, Roy. Were you listening to me yesterday, or weren't you?"

His smile faltered, a slight frown replacing it. "Well, I mean, of course I was." He blinked. "Why, exactly, do you ask…?"

"You're still clinging, not climbing. What precisely did you listen to?"

"Well… I got it down beginning and end." He tries a different smile, this one just a little nervous. "What sort of question is that?"

"Don't you mean, 'beginning _to_ end', Roy?" I asked quietly, my eyes narrowing a little. He starts to sweat again, his smile all but collapsing.

"Well, I…" He clamped his hands together, twiddling his thumbs as he looked away from my face. A subtle _blush_ started to spread from the bridge of his nose to his cheeks as he admitted, "You see, um… no."

As comprehension dawned, my eyes narrowed even further, and I found myself glaring at Roy through mere slits as I processed what he'd said. _When he fell, the first thing that happened was a blush, just like that one. Did he… He_ _ **did**_ _, didn't he?_ My frown turned to the slimmest of snarls as I shook my head slowly. _You almost had me thinking you were somehow different from the others, Roy Mustang. But you're just the same inside, aren't you? All that talk about valuing our friendship, and you give it all up for a damn peek. Asshole._ I pointed sharply toward the tree. With an effort of will, I kept my voice from shaking the way my arm wanted to.

" _Climb._ "

Roy went pale. "W-what?"

"Did you go deaf? I said _climb_. Do it right this time." I couldn't help but let a bit of my anger through. _He deserves to know how you feel, Riza. Let him have it. Maybe he'll repeat yesterday so you can laugh him all the way to hell._

He walked quickly and, mercifully, silently to the tree. Looking up, he sighed and grabbed the first branch again, pulling himself onto it slowly. He sat down on it, staring up at the branch cluster above him. I turned around, huffing in irritation. _Climb does not mean daydream, idiot._ After a minute or so of planning what I'd to to punish him for his rudeness once he fell, I heard a sharp rustling noise. I looked over my shoulder to see Roy scrabbling with his feet against the trunk as he pulled himself up to the branch above him with his arms. Just like I had told him, he held his body relatively close to the tree, his feet lifting him up rather than pushing him outward. He climbed, really climbed, jumping awkwardly from branch to branch and swinging idly as he inched closer and closer to the goal.

I watched him ascend further and further up, and eventually decided it was safe to start climbing after him. I started up, easily gaining on him, waiting for him to make a mistake. _It's got to happen at some point, and when it does, it'll be just what he deserves for looking up my...No. No, no, I am not finishing that thought!_ It was too late. I had already started seeing them in my head; the two other slimeballs who had signed up with my Father in years past had done anything they could to catch me in a compromising situation. _And he's just alike, despite everything he's done for me._ I suddenly felt the pressing need to reevaluate my situation with him. Were my initial instincts right? Was he more fake than…

 _Oh. Ah, uhm… oh._

Without knowing it, I had maneuvered myself directly underneath Roy, and looking up to find my next branch brought me face to… rear. He was a whole five feet away from me. It suddenly felt far, far too close. I felt my face heat up once again. _Damn it! What do I have to do to stay angry at this boy?!_

 _*Snap*_

 _That's not good._ I checked the branches around me. No breakage at all. Which means…

"aaaAAAAHHH SHIT! RIZA!" Roy's panicked shout echoed in the treetops as he fell. Almost without thinking, I reached my right arm out to grab at one of his own flailing limbs. _Gotta save the idiot!_ I snagged his sleeve with my fingers, and his hand quickly locked onto my arm in a death grip. My own fingers reached around his arm as my shoulder strained.

 _*SNAP*_

I looked up at the branch my left hand was gripping. It had moved downward, and I could just see the splits in the wood from where I was slowly sliding down the tilted branch. _Well, there must be more than one idiot here. He's not alone anymore…_ "Roy?" I grunted, my voice thick with stress. "This might not end too well. Do not try to stop your fall with your hands."

Roy nodded, his teeth gritting as his hand slid down my arm. "This is gonna hurt, isn't it?"

 _ ***CRACK***_

The branch broke off completely, sending both of us plummeting helplessly to the ground. Roy let go of me, once again flailing in total panic. I saw him hit the ground, looked at the large branch weighing my left arm down, and threw the dangerous stick aside. _I may be mad at him, but I don't want to impale him!_ I closed my eyes, not willing to watch the hard, root-ridden forest floor meet me…

I landed with a heavy thump, followed by a gasp from someone. I thought it could be me; I was too stunned to tell. I struggled to breathe normally as I mentally checked myself for damage.

My chest hurt like hell, but that's not bone, just bruises. _Nothing new to me._ I had honestly expected it to hurt a lot more, to land on a root or rock. But now that I gave myself time to think, I had landed on something fairly soft…

I opened my eyes. Roy's head was turned towards me, his gasping face only inches from mine. _I landed on top of him!_

I could see his lips moving in what may have been an attempt to speak, but it only came out as a sort of wheeze. I blinked, thinking about the fall. _I could swear I'm not quite that heavy, but we did fall about fifteen feet…_ We stared at each other, awkward silence filling the air as we both started blushing. _He's right there. Right in front of me and his face is right there. He's staring at me. I can feel myself breathing because he's breathing at the same time. Oh my_ _ **God**_ _he's_ _ **right there, I'm on top of him!**_ I felt embarrassed enough to cry, at least a little. I was still trying to process what had happened, and now _**this**_...

Suddenly, he smiled, his breathing quickening as his chest heaved. A sharp burst of laughter shot out of him. I blushed harder, and began laughing along without thinking about it. I rolled off of him, and we lay on the ground side by side, trying to maintain eye contact as we kept laughing until our ribs hurt.

Roy braced his forearms against the ground, lifting himself up, and I saw a patch of dark, wet moss where his head had been. It was a disturbing red color, and I glanced up at Roy. His head was slowly trickling blood.

"Roy! You're bleeding!" He blinked, holding a hand to the side of his head, and when he removed it, it came away red.

I rolled onto my side and got to my knees, carefully pulling Roy upright. "Are you okay?" _If I hadn't fallen on you, maybe you'd be okay…_

"I'm pretty sure I'm fine," he mumbled. "It's just a _little_ blood, 's fine. I'll be just great 'n a minute." He tried to stand, but staggered to the side. I quickly reached out and grabbed his sleeve again to keep him from falling back down.

"No, you're not fine. You're hurt and woozy, and it's my damn fault… Let's go back to the house to clean your head wound," I mumbled, dragging his arm across my shoulders and trying my best to support him. "We should also put a rain check on that second cooking lesson."

Roy lazily bounced his head in agreement. "Sounds like a plan to me."

 ***EOHH***

Roy lay down, unconscious, on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor as I retrieved my emergency kit I usually reserved for Father's… outbursts. My hand slid under the cupboard, stealthily grabbing the flat bundle of medical supplies while my eyes tracked Roy's sluggish movements. He was turning from side to side slowly trying to find a comfortable spot, and I stuck out a foot under his side to keep him from rolling around any more. _Stop moving, idiot! You'll only make this more difficult!_

His head rolled to the side, and I shook my own in exasperation. "What am I supposed to do with you now, huh?" _I've got to keep him still somehow; his injuries may be more extensive than they look. I could keep his head still if I perched it sort of on my lap, I guess, but then he might bleed on my clothes or… get the wrong idea. Not only that, it won't keep the rest of him still, so it wouldn't help any potential fractured ribs._ He hadn't shown many signs of intense pain, but with the way he was acting, I really couldn't be sure of anything. _He may be concussed. What if he's delirious? I have to keep him_ _ **still**_ … _But how would I?_

As I looked at his gently rocking body, his shoulders moving in a sort of see-saw pattern, I realized most of the movement started near his torso. _Maybe if I… um… I mean, I could sit on him. Like, a sort of straddle pin. If my legs are on his arms, he won't be able to move much… I just really,_ _ **really**_ _hope he doesn't remember any of this when he wakes up._

 _It's just like a hurt or sick animal, really. The best way to keep them from hurting themselves is to make sure they can't move. It's nothing wrong, just doing what any professional would do under my circumstances._

 _Yeah… right._

With a heavy sigh, I resigned myself to the idea. "You wouldn't believe the things I'm willing to do for your sake, you clumsy flame-throwing moron," I scolded him, and checked his ribs to see if anything was seriously damaged. _If there's a fracture I'd have no choice but to find another way… great. No broken ribs at all._

I reluctantly stepped over him, crouching and then kneeling as I tried to position myself over his arms and shoulders. "Damn it, just stop moving!" I hissed under my breath, and he slowly quieted down as I sat on him. _Oh, God, this does not feel right at_ _ **all**_ _. First I mess up his cooking, then I get him dropped out of a_ _ **tree**_ _, and now I'm sitting on his damn chest…_ _Okay, Riza, focus. Just bandage the guy and get off him, quick!_

I gently lifted his head and began wrapping bandages around the gauze pad that I held to the wound. Looking at his vaguely stunned expression, a thought occurred to me that calmed my nerves a bit. _He's been hit in the head after falling fifteen feet. Even if he does remember, I can just pretend he hallucinated it._ I tied off the bandage firmly, letting a sly smile cross my face. _As long as I keep it up, he'll have no way of knowing whether or not I'm lying._ As an afterthought, I dropped a painkiller pill into his mouth and gave him some water. He swallowed the pill after sleep-gargling for a second, and I winced. _If, that is, I don't drown him first..._

* * *

 _ **Thoughts? Are you guys excited to find out what happens next? Leave a comment below to let us know!**_

 _ **Also, please check out DarksteelRebelhawk's stories on Wattpad! They're amazing!**_

 _ **~warehouseluver13~**_


	7. Chapter 7

**_Hello Everyone! Here's the next update! Finals are right around the corner for us, so the next update might be a bit later than usual. Anyways, please enjoy and leave a review below!_**

 ** _Disclaimer: We do not own Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang, Fullmetal Alchemist, or FMA: Brotherhood. They belong to their respective owners._**

 ** _Author's Note: Italics are Riza's thoughts._**

 ** _~warehouseluver13~_**

* * *

Roy's head wound had healed rather quickly. In only a few days, he had started walking normally, and within two weeks the concussion was gone. I made it a point to deny any accusations of chest-sitting, and after a while, he gave up asking. If he still suspected, he sure wasn't gonna say it anytime soon. _He must be so tired of being called a pervert by now._

"Riza?" I glanced up from the lunch I was making, slightly more advanced than my usual sandwiches and canned soup thanks to Roy's cooking lessons. My culinary teacher was approaching, drenched in sweat and glum-looking. "When is the food going to be ready? And can it please be served cold? I'm boiling up."

I noticed the smudges of soot on his face, his eyes looking particularly bleary and red. "Lack of sleep messing with your studies again?"

"You guessed it." He slumped into his usual chair, exhausted. "Uuugh," he groaned, stretching his arms out on the table and slowly lowering his head in between them on the cool wood.

I finished tossing the chef's salad, thankful that I had found the cubed ham. _If there's any lunch food that can be served cold, it's fresh salad._ Piling it into bowls, I retrieved a cold compress from the icebox, sliding it across the table to him. It stopped halfway across, and I frowned. _He makes it look so easy… How can he do it with anything? I can manage dishware, but his versatility…_

Roy's fingers twitched, sensing the chill of the cold pack. Without lifting his head, his hands snatched at the icy sack, drawing it closer to him. He scooped it up onto the back of his head, groaning in relief. "That feels so good right now…"

"Better there than somewhere else I can think of…" I remarked slyly, and he winced.

"Don't remind me."

I grinned, placing his salad in front of him. "Eat. It's about as cold as it's going to get with this weather." Looking outside, I could see why Roy would be so tired. The sun was blazing, and without a cloud in sight, the Ash Castle must be a massive oven just waiting for a foolish alchemist to stay in too long… "You know, if you did more book research and less experimentation, you wouldn't have this problem."

"I already understand the theories he's using," Roy responded, "I just need to find out how he's putting them into practice. If I can sort out what the faults are in the older pairs of gloves, I might have a chance of reaching his conclusion before he does."

I raised my eyebrows skeptically. "My Father has been working on this for at least five years, probably closer to eight, and you think you can beat him at his own game in just one? You're even cockier than usual."

He lifted his head and grinned weakly. "It takes a lot of guts to be this dumb, so I might as well be proud of it. What I lack in time, I can easily make up for in determination."

As he started eating the salad, I shook my head and sighed. "Now you're just trying to be funny. We both know that you wouldn't be here if you were really stupid. The other bit _almost_ makes sense, though."

He mumbled through his lettuce, and I could almost distinguish it as language. "Arrite thn, 'yu dry may'kn fire ev'r day i'th sun. Shee hofar y get, eh?"

"Probably farther than you can get while talking like that, Roy." I put down my own salad, munching quietly. "You have to be understandable to pass an alchemist's exam, don't you?"

"Eh," Roy shrugged, gulping his mouthful down somehow. "It's easier if you are, but as long as you can write..."

"Riight," I said sarcastically, "because basic communication skills are for losers. Of course. I understand everything now. _This_ is why my Father has been so cruel to me all this time; because he never bothered to actually talk to people while he was young!"

Roy's eyebrows furrowed. "All right, then," he retorted, "and how long had it been before I got here since you had a real friend? You're no expert yourself. In fact, I think you need a vacation from all this housework."

I blinked, processing what he had just said. "Are you… insulting me?"

"No, I'm just saying that your dad hasn't really let you do much in the way of socializing. You need to get back out into civilization and actually get some new experiences. Thinking that I'm your only friend in the world right now just makes me depressed; you could honestly do better if you tried, you know."

Shaking my head, I laughed, although what Roy had said ate at me. "So you finally admit you're not as great as you make yourself out to be."

Roy blushed slightly. "I-I never said I was _great_ , at least not yet. But I _plan_ on being great real soon."

"Sure. Right. Have fun being great while I'm stuck in the boonies with this shitfest of a life." I turned my back to him, suddenly not hungry.

"Aw, come on, Riza, I didn't mean… Now that's not fair and you know it!"

Still frustrated, I walked upstairs to my room, grabbed my coat (even though I knew I probably wouldn't need it,) and passed Roy by on my way out.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"To _rejoin civilization_ ," I snapped back.

 ***EOHH***

Roy walked frantically behind me as I doggedly attempted to outpace him. "Look, Riza, for the last time, I'm sorry about what I said. I.. I stepped out of line, okay? I was wrong, and I'm sorry!"

I ignored him, determined to show him just how wrong he had been. Instead of responding, I took a minute to look around, his voice slowly fading out of my notice as I observed what was going on around us.

We had just made it to the outer limits of the village. Nothing much was here except a few scattered houses and an inn by the road. Not being from out of town, I had never been inside it, but I knew from the number of carts, and even automobiles, that it had parked outside that it was doing well. I could hear the bustle of the town further along the road, and a man in a horse-drawn cart was delivering baked goods to the inn from the local bakery. I remembered that we needed more bread if I was going to make any more toast or sandwiches, and decided I would stop by the bakery later.

"Oh, h-hey!" A voice called to me from a little ways off, and I looked to see the baker's apprentice, Tony, waving to me as he approached from the cart. "How are you today, Riza?"

I heard Roy's footsteps stop abruptly. "What?" he asked. "Wait a minute…"

I waved back to Tony, turned to Roy, and smiled sweetly. "This is why you're wrong. I go into the village every _Wednesday_ to run errands, you just never _notice_ because you and my Father are too busy making each other go deaf."

"Hey, is this your pop's new apprentice?" Tony smiled at Roy, extending a hand. "Name's Tony. I'm an apprentice myself, but nothing so fancy as alchemy. I'm a baker!"

I glanced toward my currently stunned companion, waiting for him to say… something. At this point, I didn't care what kind of a fool he made himself look like, as long as he didn't run his mouth too much.

Instead, he gave a half-smile, reached out a hand, and returned Tony's greeting coolly. "Roy. Roy Mustang." I narrowed my eyes, fairly sure that something was going through Roy's head that I wouldn't like if I only knew what the hell it was. "I'm training in flame alchemy, obviously."

Tony's smile dimmed, and his tone darkened. "Yeah. I figured as much." He turned to me, his face suddenly much more friendly. "So, Riza, how's it holding up back home? Your pop still going strong? Seems to me he's not out and about as often as you these days. Master John's getting concerned."

I try not to wince, nodding politely instead. "Oh, he's fine, believe me. He's just… busy."

Tony's shoulders sagged. "John won't be too happy to hear that. You know he and your pop used to be pals, right?"

I shook my head. Roy interjected. "You know, it makes sense. Baking is essentially chemistry, which is a lot like alchemy."

Tony nodded, his eyes closed. "Rumor is, they trained under the same alchemy teacher up near Dublith. John was actually pretty good, if you believe the stories, but when old man Hawkeye and the other student, Curtis, started outclassing him, he decided to go into a safer profession."

I had the sneaking suspicion that this was getting to be more than just casual banter. Based on Roy's face alone, there was real tension between these two boys. _Why can't men just act normally and behave themselves?_ Thinking quickly, I did the only thing I knew would break up the testosterone-laden "conversation".

"Come on," I said sweetly, "we do have other things to do, Roy. Don't get too distracted." I took a firm hold of his arm and started walking. "See you Wednesday, Tony."

Tony waved again, saying, "If anything goes south like last year, you just let John and me know. We'll have your back in no time flat!"

"Thanks, I'll keep it in mind. By the way, congratulations to John on his election to Sheriff."

As we walked away, Roy turned to me and quietly said, "If you have so many friends, why were you so damn lonely when we first met?"

"None of them get it."

"They might if you just talk to them."

"I do."

"I mean really talk. Talk about things that actually matter."

"They wouldn't want to hear about it and I don't want to make them worry."

A small body collided with my legs, and I tripped. Roy caught me, heaving me back upright as I was about to fall over, and I blushed. A young girl, one I had never seen before, quickly shouted "Sorry, miss!" before continuing to chase a red rubber ball across the road.

Roy looked after I started walking over, and we both picked up speed. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a few men pulling a large, heavy cart about ten yards further up the hill. _Once that cart starts gaining speed, it might not be able to stop!_ I look back to the girl, who seemed oblivious to the incoming threat. "Roy, that cart. We've got to do something."

"Yeah, I see it. You get the girl to safety, I'll stop the cart if it gets too close."

The red ball rolled directly into the middle of the road as the cart began to accelerate, its heavy payload causing the men pulling it to struggle. "We have to hurry!" I shout, breaking into a run. Roy quickly passed me, his longer legs propelling him forward as I raced toward the unaware toddler.

Roy branched off to the side, going to intercept the cart and try to help slow it down. I could hear him shouting as I called to the girl in the road, trying to get her attention. Looking back, I could see Roy being pushed forward by the cart's momentum, and I started to panic. _If they can't stop, I might not make it!_

 _ **I've got to move faster!**_

The little girl finally looked up at me, and fear dawned in her eyes as I lifted her off the ground and ran down the road, listening to the scraping of the five pairs of feet behind us trying desperately to halt the huge cart.

"Riza, get out of the way! Hurry!" Roy's voice spurred me on, the strain in his tone clearly noticeable. I turned and leapt sharply to the left, and the girl clung to me as the cart skidded past. I turned my back to the ground, making sure to shield the toddler from injury as Roy and the other four finally stopped the rogue wagon.

As I set the girl down carefully, checking her for scrapes, Roy struggled to express his anger. "You… you idiots! What the f…" I tossed a pebble at his head, covering the child's ears as I glared holes into his skull. He quickly corrected himself, gesturing to the terrified little girl as he continued to shout. "Argh, just what were you doing?! You could've _killed_ someone!"

The four who had been manning the cart glanced at each other incredulously. One of them, a large blond-haired farm boy with biceps almost as wide as Roy's legs, stared him down. "Look, pal," he grunted angrily, "In case y'all didn't notice, we were trying our damnedest to stop this cart before you ever showed up, so quit your hollering and find something useful to do with yourself."

I froze. _That voice… The cocky attitude… I remember him!_

As I slowly stood up, letting the frightened girl run home, the blond boy met my eyes. Amazement dawned on his face, and I could only stare in shock as _he_ finally recognized _me_. "R… Riza Hawkeye? Is that you?!"

Roy turned slowly to me, his face a perfect picture of utter confusion. "Wait… you know this guy, too?"

I snap out of… whatever it was, and quickly rummage through my thoughts to try and remember where I recognized him from. _It can't have been very recent, the voice is different somehow. Much older. Maybe I knew him from before Mother passed._

 _Oh. That's it. That's it exactly._

 _I know_ _ **him**_ _. And I remember why I_ _ **forgot**_ _him._

"Hello, Aaron," I growled darkly, venom dripping from my voice as I glared at the boy who had once been my childhood friend.

"It's sure been a while, huh?" he asked, seemingly oblivious to my rapidly building sense of loathing. "Seems like…"

I interrupt him. "Five years, three weeks. Almost to the day."

Aaron hesitated, and Roy continued to turn from me to him, trying to wrap his head around the situation. "Hey, uh, Riza?" he intoned, "who is this again?"

"Trouble," I snapped, turning my back and walking away, once again unwilling to put up with the crap life seemed intent on throwing at me today. "Nothing but trouble, now come on. We have things to do."

"Aw, come on, don't be like that," Aaron said, his buddies chuckling amongst themselves and whistling at me.

I felt a hand touch my arm, and violently slapped it away. "Don't touch me!" I snarled, whirling to face Aaron. "You don't get to touch me. You don't get to patronize me. You don't get shit. Not after what you did!"

Roy stepped between us, stone-faced. "Riza, just hold on. What did he do?"

I shoved past him, getting right up in Aaron's face despite his height. "You _abandoned me!_ I watched my Mother _die_ , and you left me behind!" I struggled to keep tears out of my eyes, my finger jabbing into Aaron's chest with all the force it could muster. "You left me _alone_ , and I will _never_ forgive you, bastard!" I screamed.

He backed away, face emotionless. Roy stepped forward, staring Aaron in the eyes. "You heard her." I could hear the steel in his voice as he slowly walked closer and closer to Aaron, pulling out a white glove from his pocket. " _Get lost_. She doesn't want to talk."

Aaron went back to the cart, and Roy turned to me, gently putting an arm around my shoulders. "Do you want to go home?" he asked.

 ***EOHH***

We sat by the water garden, our toes wiggling in the pond. The ripples bounced off of each other, confused and disoriented once they were deflected from their original course. After a while, Roy spoke. "I'm sorry." he said simply.

"Sorry for what?"

"I'm just sorry. Sorry that you had to go through that alone. Sorry I said what I said earlier. I'm just… I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "Don't be 'just sorry', be Roy. I kinda need someone to talk to right now."

He smiled, briefly. "Here I am. Whenever you find the words, I'm listening."

I nod, looking toward the lone tree sitting on the island at the pond's center. "Thanks. It… means a lot." Sighing heavily, I think about the situation. _He genuinely cares; after all this time, there's no point in denying that. He cares about me and wants me to be happy, even though I almost never am. Almost… except when he's there. He's my friend now. Because of that, I finally have a reason to be happy._

 _He deserves to know._

"I was thirteen when Mother died. I… Father and I watched it happen. We were sitting by her bedside for almost a whole day before she finally passed away."

Roy put a hand on my shoulder, and I could tell he wanted to say something. I stopped, and he hesitated. "Just.. say what you have to," he finally relented. "But nothing more, okay? I don't want you to get too upset about this."

"No, I'm fine," I lie, "it needs to be said." Taking a deep breath, I continued. "She died from suffocation. Her throat couldn't support itself anymore. It collapsed, and she couldn't breathe. Her whole neck was decaying, cell by cell."

"How is that possible?" Roy's voice was tinged with a disturbed sort of wonderment.

"A spider bite," I told him, and I felt his grip on my shoulder tighten reflexively. "It was a fiddlehead spider, the Brown Recluse. Its venom causes necrosis. She was bitten on the throat, and she died of slow poisoning and eventual asphyxiation."

"You only read that book about bugs once, huh?"

I nodded. "I had to know which spider did it. I just had to know. By the time I found the entry, she was already on the verge of death; there was no way to save her, not even with an antivenom." Roy pulled me closer to him, and I felt my head touch his shoulder.

"I'm sorry. It must have been so painful."

"She couldn't speak. We didn't really have a way of knowing."

"Not what I meant. It must have hurt you. To be so helpless in such an awful situation."

"I'm still here, aren't I?" A tear trickled down my cheek, escaping from my defenses.

"Yes, and I'm glad of that. But it would have been nice to have known that you as well as this one. Maybe if I had gone here when I first started attempting flame alchemy, instead of waiting as long as I did… I could have met _her_ , too."

"You wouldn't have known. You wouldn't have been able to do any more than me."

"But you wouldn't have been alone."

"I had Father. And my books."

"Your dad didn't fare much better than you did, from what I've heard. And last time I checked… books don't talk."

"You don't listen to them."

"Honestly, no. I _read_ them. Like everyone else. I never had to listen to a book, I grew up surrounded by noise. But for you, it must have been so… quiet."

I shuddered, and pulled away. "I have chores to do," I muttered, then put on my shoes and left him sitting at the pond, staring with newfound reverence at the tree in the center.

Sitting alone.

* * *

 ** _Well, wasn't that dramatic? Who else here doesn't like Aaron? (*Quickly raises hand*) That's what I thought. Please leave a review below to let us know what you think! ;D_**

 _ **~warehouseluver13~**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Ahhh! We're back! O: Super sorry for the wait! Summer was insane! Here's chapter 8! Please read, review and enjoy! Chapter 9 will be released soon!**_

 ** _Disclaimer: We do not own Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang, Fullmetal Alchemist, or FMA: Brotherhood. They belong to their respective owners._**

 ** _Also: Italics are Riza's thoughts._**

 _ **~warehouseluver13**_

* * *

"Hey, Riza, don't… no, no, we can add anything but that, okay?"

I frowned, holding the diced pepper in my hands and waiting for Roy to explain what was wrong this time. "You said this was going to be a lesson in food versatility, right? Throw what we have in the pot and make it work? We have this. I want to make it work."

"Alright, but Riza, that's not the right kind of pepper. I wasn't specific enough when you went shopping last Wednesday, and, well, that's not the kind of red pepper I was hoping for."

I frowned harder. "What's that supposed to mean? What the hell kind of weird excuse is that? It's a red pepper, isn't this how peppers always look?"

Roy rubbed the back of his neck, grimacing. "Well, actually, no. That's a really hot kind of pepper, and it is a typical shape, but it isn't right for the ingredients we already have. I was… well, I wanted to teach you how to use sweet peppers. Red bell peppers are better for you anyway, from a nutritional standpoint."

I sighed, my shoulders slumping. "Fine, alright, I screwed up again. But I just… I just want to get better at this and do something right for once. So if I can turn this mistake into a success, like you did with my first stir-fry attempt, I'll know I'm getting better, do you see what I mean?"

"Um, well, you see… it's… Okay. You can add the pepper. I'm warning you though, it's going to add a hell of a spicy kick to the meal. You had better be able to handle the heat."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," I said, smiling at him. "Spice is negated by milk, right? We'll just add cheese, and it'll be okay."

Roy sighed, and watched with a nervous face as I tossed the tiny chunks of pepper into the simmering saucepan. "Right. Of course it will, I'm confident we can work it through." I didn't bother to tell him that I knew he was lying; he was probably already aware. "Let the lesson continue, then…"

 ***EOHH***

I tried not to laugh as Roy struggled against his food. "Aaahahahaaahaaaagh! Ha-haaahh- HOT!"

"Too much heat to handle, flame alchemist?" I jabbed, finally giving in.

"Haa-how are you not burning your tongue off right now?!"

"Here," I said, grinning as I handed him a glass of milk and a slice of buttered bread. "These might help."

Roy accepted the two lifesavers with difficulty, since he seemed to still be panting like a dog as he tried relieve his burning tongue. He took a bite of the slice of bread and quickly chugged down the milk to ease the pain of the spicy flavor. "Y-you really ca- _huhk! koff!_ You can't be serious. You aren't bothered by this?"

I shrugged. "I kind of like it, actually. It's more vibrant than what I'm used to. It's a new experience." I calmly take a sip of my own milk. "I confess it's a bit too intense, but you're overreacting."

Shakily, he smiled. "Heh. I guess you're right. Regardless of the heat, I gotta say, the flavors work really well." He patted me on the back as he stood up to pour more milk. "Good job."

I nodded my thanks, and went to the counter to start assembling my Father's own lunch, which was not part of our experiment.

Sitting back down, Roy mumbled, "So, do you feel better?"

I quirked my head to the side, thinking about what he meant. "I… I guess I feel pretty nice right now. But I don't know why you'd say _better_."

Roy sighed. "Well, I know that Monday's little encounters left you pretty down, so I wanted to do this to get your spirits up a bit. You needed it, so I'm glad it worked." He smiled slyly. "I guess I didn't incinerate my tongue for nothing."

"Crybaby." I smirked and turned back to my sandwich-making.

"Food is different, Riza. Come on!" Roy protested, and I laughed at him as he sulked and drank his milk.

* * *

 _ **Super sorry for the short chapter! I: What do you think will happen next? Leave a comment below to let us know! (Chapter 9 should be released by Wednesday!) :)**_

 _ **Also, please check out DarksteelRebelhawk's stories on Wattpad! They're amazing!**_

 _ **~warehouseluver13~**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Hellooo Everyone! :) As promised, here's chapter 9! We absolutely loved writing this chapter! (WARNING: Very Fluffy) ;)**_

 ** _Disclaimer: We do not own Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang, Fullmetal Alchemist, or FMA: Brotherhood. They belong to their respective owners._**

 ** _Also: Italics are Riza's thoughts._**

 _ **~warehouseluver13**_

* * *

I sighed in relief, putting away the last egg I had collected from the chickens inside the icebox. Turning around, I examined the surrounding kitchen. It was spotless. Going out into the small living room, I check the wood pile next to the fireplace. Full. And the floors? Clean and ash-free. All the bedrooms had freshly folded laundry, and I had everything I needed to begin my plan for a day off. Roy's suggestion from a few days ago, while rather off-color at the time, had some merit, so I had worked double-time ever since in order to make room. Now, at long last, I had nothing left to do today. The whole afternoon, all to myself.

I suddenly felt like having a picnic. I didn't remember much about what was supposed to be done at picnics when one is on one's own, but regardless, I wanted to have one. Mother and Father and I used to go out into the forest and eat lunch on sunny days, before she died. Sometimes, she would even let me take a dip in the river while she was working. The sun was bright and warm as it streamed through the window above the kitchen sink, and I felt the urge to swim. I missed those picnics. Maybe… even with Father still spending all his time training Roy in the Ash Castle, maybe I could still have a picnic with Mother.

 _I'm going to her water garden_. _It would be rather nice to go for a swim again._ I started packing simple foods. Mashed potatoes, egg salad, a small block of cheese, and a sealed pitcher of iced tea. I was about to walk out the door with the basket, swimsuit and towel when I realized that Roy would still be just as hungry when his training was done, and if he didn't find me in the house, I had a sinking feeling he would scour the forest for me. To prepare for that eventuality, I also made sandwiches of multiple different varieties, and brought an extra cup for the iced tea.

The Ash Castle was still smoking slightly from the most recent explosion when I walked past it into the woods. Fortunately, Father was too busy talking to Roy to notice me, or he might have gotten angry, thinking I had abandoned my duties. Not wanting to take any chances, I avoided the windows of the building as best I could and passed by as quietly as my laden armload would allow. Not being able to properly see my feet didn't help.

The trees were a nice source of shade as I went along the path, their leaves providing green-tinted shadows that waved with the gentle wind. The winding track eventually took me to my destination, and I ducked under the arches of the alder trees at the more southerly entrance to the water garden, which was much closer to the water. My Mother's sacred space, this little pond in a big clearing, was just the same as it had always been. Mother's tree, standing tall and slim in the center of the pond, waved brightly at me as I smiled and set down my things. _No time like the present._

I quickly changed out of my normal clothing and into my swimsuit, glad that Roy wasn't getting out of his training for at least an hour. _I'm used to having nobody around for this… the last apprentices never made it this far into the year. Tony and old John had made sure of it, bless their souls. Any more than three months of_ _ **them**_ _, and I don't think I'd feel safe. Not that I usually did anyway..._ Father was too focused on their poor academics to bother with their lack of moral quality, so I was usually left to rely on my wits and John's influence to get rid of them.

I waded slowly into the calm water, my body making massive ripples that bounced along the edge of the little shore, sending the little minnows and frogs into a frenzy of activity as they tried to swim away from my intrusion in their home. I was almost tempted to apologize to them, but I knew that they wouldn't understand me anyway, so there wasn't really a point. _Mother would have done it anyway,_ I thought, and grinned to myself.

After a few dozen laps of the pond's circumference and some leisure time spent floating calmly around the island, I decided it was high time to start drying off. Eating with wet hands was always a rather unpleasant business, and I preferred to avoid it. I swam, then crawled, up to the island's sand bank, resting my head and back on the dry grass while my legs stretched out into the shallows. _I'm starting to get hungry, so I might as well get a little sun before I really dry off._

I heard a slight commotion coming from the woods, and birds started calling in excitement. Or was it surprise? It was difficult to tell most of the time, even for me. The best I could normally do was distinguish a normal call from the mating cry. Either way, something was approaching from the south. Fairly fast, actually. _Maybe it's…_

"Hey! Riza?" I heard him long before I saw him. "Riza, are you out here? Your dad might get upset if he finds out you left the house without telling him, you should probably think of a way around that! Can you hear me?" Roy's voice came closer, and I saw a vague outline of him barreling down the path, heedless of the ruckus he was leaving in his wake. "Riz- _huh?!_ " he cried out as he saw me lying in the water. His eyes widened, his foot stumbled, and he fell face-first into the low-hanging branches that I had had the sense to duck under on my way in. " _Gahk!_ "

I splashed awkwardly to my feet, watching Roy struggle and squirm on the forest floor, holding his nose and cursing. "Roy, are you okay?!"

"Aaaangh, I'b fide. Jus' peachy. Don'd worry 'boud be, I'b fide." He sat up, not sounding too convincing. There was blood dripping from in between his fingers.

"Your nose is bleeding, Roy, are you sure you'll be fine? That was quite a smack you got from those trees." He waved his free hand dismissively as I jump-waded through the pond, keeping my arms and head above the water. He turned his head and moved his hand away, and I thought I saw him spit blood as well. "I'm getting the emergency kit," I told him as I strode past him.

He reached out and put his arm in my way, and I glared at him. "What, do you want to start choking on your own blood?" He shook his head, but gestured to the picnic basket.

"You'll wasde de food," he said lamely. "Id's pasd lunchtibe. I can handle dis. I'b fide."

I sighed heavily, going back into the clearing and grabbing my towel. "If you're going to be so damn stubborn about it, then at least wash your face off so that you don't gush blood on your lunch." I wrap the towel around myself, obscuring the rather sheer bathing suit. _He's probably just as embarrassed as I am by now. I definitely didn't expect him here this early…_ My Father doesn't normally stop working at his alchemy until around a half an hour from now; I had planned to be back in my normal clothes by the time Roy arrived.

"Hold od, I thing I gan do dat. Dese clodes will dry adyway." He wanders slowly into the water, his white gloves hanging from the back pockets of his jeans. As he splashes water onto his face, I quickly take the opportunity to put my dress on over the swimsuit. _I'm taking no chances._

After a minute or two, Roy emerged from the pond, his nose no longer bleeding… heavily, anyway. I opened up the picnic basket and handed him his sandwiches. "Here."

He took them, all five of them, and blinked. "O-okay. Uhhh, why five?"

"I didn't know what you'd want or how hungry you'd be, so I just made a bunch of them. If you don't want them, we can always save them in the icebox." Roy held his hands in the air, shrugging.

"I never said I didn't want 'em. I was just curious. What else did you bring out here?" He peered into the basket as he sat down on the towel that was now spread out on the grass.

I quickly smacked his hand away from my mashed potatoes, and pulled the iced tea out. "You have five sandwiches, you don't need that too. Cheese, mashed potatoes, and an egg salad, for your information, though they're mine and not yours. If want some, trade sandwiches for it." I smirked. "Equivalent exchange, alchemist."

"You're something else," he sighed in disappointment. "That egg salad looks great, too…" He stared at the basket out of the corner of his eye as he ate a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Roy," I said smoothly as I opened the little bowl's plastic wrapping. "This egg salad is worth no more and no less than half a good sandwich. Take it or leave it."

He quickly finds the peanut butter and jelly sandwich, beginning to unwrap it. I shake my head. "A _real_ sandwich, you cheat. Like that BLT there."

"Aw, come on, have mercy, Riza. I love BLTs. You know that!"

"That's why this egg salad is worth half of one. It's my main course, Roy. You want to take away my greatest source of nutrition for a half of a PB and J? Fat chance."

I take out my fork as he grumpily chomps on the BLT. "It doesn't look _that_ good anyway…"

I suddenly feel sorry for him, although just a little. "You're acting pathetic. Stop it."

"How could I possibly?" he groans dramatically, seizing the opportunity. "You've denied me one of life's greatest pleasures! Taking other people's egg salad is a fine source of entertainment, and I've been cruelly robbed of the opportunity thanks to your hardhearted adherence to the Law of Equivalent Exchange…"

"If you don't want to follow your own hobby's rules, it's no wonder you're having trouble mastering my Father's alchemy," I jab back. "And my egg salad is fine, as you had said just a minute ago."

He relents, but not before reaching over and plucking out a small daub of the egg salad with his fingers. I quickly snatch the bowl away from him, frowning. "That was rude. Not to mention unsanitary." I think for a second, then smile slightly. "If you want any more, it'll cost you the whole BLT, _and_ half of another sandwich."

He licks the offending finger, and I can't help but shudder. "I'm not giving up that much for the egg salad, no matter _how delicious it is._ " His voice is tinged with frustration, deepening slightly.

I smile wider. "Thanks for the compliment, Roy. After you stuck your grubby, bloodied hand in my food, I deserve some cheering up."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He finished his BLT in silence, and then paused. "Hey, Riza?"

"What is it?" I asked, shifting away from him to protect my food.

"What happened, back in town on Monday? I did my best to keep up, but I have to admit, there's a lot more going on than I thought with you. Who was that guy you shouted at, and why are you so mad at him?"

My blood ran cold at the thought. "I already told you, he's nothing…"

"... Nothing but trouble, yeah. Look, whatever he did to you, it must have been bad to get you to hate him so much. I'm not asking for his life story, just… why should I hate this guy, too?"

I turned to him, thunderstruck. He was looking directly into my eyes, the small pile of sandwiches forgotten. "I…" I couldn't think of what to say. How to respond to that… earnestness. I wasn't used to it, not even after living with Roy for upwards of three months. _Aaron's actions don't involve him at all. Why would he say that?_

Something brushed against my fingers. I jumped, staring at the source of the feeling. _A spider?!_ Roy's hand was sitting on the grass where my own had rested. I breathed a sigh of relief. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it," he mumbled. "I just thought it'd be good to know these things. In case I ever run into him again."

I blinked. "Uh… Well, he was my friend." Roy nodded. "I guess… I guess he was actually my best friend, at the time. I was shy, even as a child, and Aaron… he always walked over to ask me if I wanted to play. We grew up together, and then he just… it was like he vanished after Mother died. He didn't say anything to me, not a word. I was heartbroken, and when I needed a friend the most, he wasn't there."

I heard Roy's knuckles crack. The hand he was leaning on had clenched into a white-knuckled fist, and I felt tiny tears starting to build in my eyes. "That's why you were so upset, huh?" he asked quietly. "I think I get it. I understand why you felt like that, what he did can't be excused." He stared at the ground, and I picked up one of his sandwiches and tossed it at him.

He jumped, startled, and I laughed. "What were you thinking about?" I asked.

"How many burns I should give him and where," he said, dead serious.

"One should be right on his ass, just so he can't sit down." I suggested playfully.

Roy laughed. "Yeah… I think that'd be pretty funny. Or maybe on the soles of his feet so he can't stand up."

"Not both," I tell him, trying not to giggle, "that would be too much even for him."

Roy leans back, falling onto the grass and dragging at the towel as he slid slightly down the hill. I grabbed the basket so it wouldn't move with him. "Watch it, my food is in danger!"

Taking out the mashed potatoes, I lay back on the grass, too. I started eating as we both stared up into the sunny sky.

We lay back on the soft grass in silence. The only sounds around us are the birds and our food. _Everything is at peace, for once. I can actually relax a little today._

 _This is… really nice._

I absentmindedly dip my spoon back into the mashed potatoes, turning my head to watch Roy nibbling slowly on the peanut butter sandwich. His eyes were closed, wrinkled at the edges with the hint of a smile. He blinked, turned to look at me, and chuckled as I waved my fingers at him. "How's the PB and J?"

"Masterfully balanced," he said pretentiously, and we both laughed as I pulled out the spoon from my food, ready to continue eating my own lunch instead of watching him eat his.

Suddenly, Roy's eyes went wide, and he held out a hand in warning, saying, "Riza, don't eat that," in a deathly quiet voice.

My spoon stopped on its way over to my mouth, and I stared at it in shock. A fat, yellow and black spider was sitting right on top of my bite of mashed potato, staring at me with the beady black eyes I couldn't quite see but knew for certain were there.

My blood ran as cold as ice, and I faintly heard Roy's voice through the sound of my pulse in my ears. I resisted the urge to shudder, to scream, to move even a hair's breadth for fear of provoking it to attack. It felt as if every fiber in my body was trying to recoil, inching out from under my skin in order to get away from the twig-like legs and faintly glittering carapace. "R-roy," I muttered, my voice quavering in a way I wished my body would stop mimicking, "what d-do I do?! I… I don't know wh-what to do!"

"Just… stand up slowly, and throw it if it moves. I'll get it. Don't worry, I have my gloves with me." I could hear his voice moving, but I didn't dare turn to look. I didn't dare to do anything… anything at all…

A leg flicked forward, and I shrieked. My arm flung out of its own accord, and the dull metal spoon went flying as Roy snapped his fingers.

Nothing happened. The spoon hit the ground, the spider started crawling, and I smelled a faint whiff of smoke as Roy stuttered in total confusion. "What?! That was supposed to work, it should have worked! I was focusing and everything!"

The spider crawled closer, and I bolted, dashing to the one place I knew I was safe from it.

The water splashed wildly around my ankles as I ran, slowing me down the deeper I went. Roy was still snapping and cursing by the time I reached the island at the center of the pond. I grabbed hold of Mother's tree and used it to hold myself up, trying to stop my knees from shaking. _It's not a water spider, Riza, it can't get to you now. You're safe. It's okay now. Just… stop freaking out._

I stood there, taking deep breaths and trying to calm down. Eventually I noticed that Roy's voice had stopped. I glanced to the shore to see him silently holding out the towel, his face turned away from me. It was hard to tell because of the distance, but it looked almost as if he was blushing. "You, uh… you might need this," he called across the water. "You know, to… to dry off."

A breeze blows past me, and I suddenly felt the chill of every single drop of water running down my arms and legs.

 _I'm soaking wet._

I look down at myself, fear and embarrassment rising hot in my face.

 _ **My dress is transparent!**_

My eyes darted to Roy, standing in the same stance and looking away from me. He was still holding out that towel, and a surge of gratefulness washed over me like a wave. _He's being so considerate… None of the other apprentices would have even hesitated to stare, but look at him! He's giving me a chance!_ "Is… is the spider gone?" I asked quickly.

The second the word 'yes' left his lips, I took off, trying to get back to shore as quickly as possible without causing a ruckus. Splashing lightly as I neared the shore, I quickly snatched the towel from his hand and flung it around myself, making sure it was secure before mumbling, "...Thanks."

Roy turned to me, briefly checking to see if I was decent, as I thought about the whole embarrassing scenario. He opened his mouth, presumably to say something, but no words seemed to form. I glanced at the glove on his hand. "Why didn't they work?" I asked.

"Huh?"

"Your gloves. They didn't work this time. Do you have any idea why?"

He gritted his teeth in frustration. "If I did, I'd tell you, but… look, all I know is that it wasn't _my_ fault. I did everything right."

I frowned, glancing at the glove. It looked different. Almost… _transparent_ … "Did they get wet?"

Roy pulled the second one from his back pocket, watching a tiny droplet of water form at the end of one of the fingers. "I guess they did. Must've been when I waded into the water to wash my nose. But… how would that stop my alchemy? The friction was the same."

"Well, maybe the friction of the glove wasn't the problem. When my Father gives me gloves to wash and repair, he doesn't bring them into his study for at least a day… Maybe the fabric doesn't spark when it's wet?"

Roy frowned. He tried snapping again, but all that came out of the glove was a tiny puff of smoke. "Well that's stupid. I've never heard of alchemy with a weakness before."

I smirked, suddenly feeling the urge to laugh. "Roy, you…" I tried to hold it in, my face turning red, but I couldn't. "Roy, you know what this means, right?" I chuckled.

"What is it Riza? Why are you laughing?"

I snorted, nearly doubling over as I tried to explain my revelation. "Your Flame Alchemy… all that power, and…"

"Well? Spill it!"

" _You're_ _ **useless**_ _when you're wet, Roy!_ "

As his face twisted into a hilarious mixture of despair and outrage, I collapsed to my knees, laughing too hard to stand upright. "Useless when… Oh my _God_ Roy, you... you're useleheheehee!"

"It's not _that_ funny! Come on, Riza, grow up!"

I look him square in the eyes, suspending my laughter for just long enough to squeak, " _Useless!_ " before toppling backwards and curling up into a giggling ball on the ground.

As he grumbled, I heard the rustle of cloth and wicker. "I'm gonna put these away, since eating anything probably won't be a great idea for you for a while yet."

I tried to think of something to say, some retort, but I couldn't. I couldn't even breathe. The only things that came from my mouth were desperate wheezes for air and more helpless laughter. I rolled and squirmed, trying to do something as simple as inhale, but I couldn't. I could only laugh until the sound of it died in my throat and my body just shook, soundlessly, breathlessly, and beyond any restraint.

"Hey, Riza. You should probably stop and take a breath." Roy's voice echoed dully in my ears as I struggled to follow his advice. With each chuckle, I slowed my spasms, got a grip on my sanity, and gathered my breaths a little faster.

"Come on, Your Leafy Highness, the kingdom awaits." Roy's dry comment breaks the fit, snapping me back to reality. As I got myself back under control, I stood back up, stalked over to him, and whacked him in the back of the head, my eyes narrowed.

"Give me that," I growl, snatching the basket as he in turn begins to snicker. "This food is more than you deserve, you loser. Don't forget, I can catch you wet-handed now and you can't stop me from kicking your ass, so watch it."

Roy's eyes widen, then narrow contemplatively. "I mean, I could still fight back, but that doesn't mean I'd want to." He grins annoyingly. "Tree Princess."

I scowl. "Useless when you're wet!" I shoot back, and take off in a different direction than normal. As Roy splutters helplessly behind me, I yell back, "If you want to get in the house without apologizing, you've gotta catch me in my home territory! Have fun being locked out!"

Ten minutes later, I burst from the foliage, immediately wheeling back to look for Roy, to listen for his voice or clumsy running. Seeing no trace of him, I glanced at the door of the house, wondering if I should keep my word on this one. As I glance back at the trees, it suddenly hits me that Roy might actually be right. I know the whole place inside and out, I can find my way from anywhere in the woods to almost anywhere else. I know a dozen different ways to find out where Roy is in less than five minutes, and I could find him again in another ten. "I don't believe it, he's right."

It seemed almost funny how long I had been getting annoyed at him for being truthful about his view of me. Before long, I was chuckling, and by the time Roy found his way out, I was just getting over another small gale of laughter. I cackle to myself as I walk back to the door, Roy following me with a slightly concerned look on his face. "You know, Roy, I think, you know, just maybe, that you're right." He stops short, stunned, and I turn to him and smile as I open the door and step across the threshold, smiling. "I am a tree princess." His jaw drops as I close the door in his face and shut the latch.

* * *

 _ **Did you love the fluff? What did you like about this chapter? Leave your thoughts below!**_

 _ **~warehouseluver13~**_


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